War
by Maharia Avile
Summary: Commander Cullen and King Alistair Theirin are no dim-witted, shy Chantry boys. They're both powerful men and they've both set their sights on the young and beautiful Inquisitor Ashe Trevelyan. But Ashe is no dainty little rose either. She revels in the attention - lust and violence is looming over them all. The game is on. Multi POV. DarkCullen & DarkAlistair. Seriously.
1. Chapter 1

She didn't like boys. She liked _men._

It had always been like that, even when she herself had been a girl and not a woman. She had let a stable boy take her virginity, true, but only because she was too young for any real men to notice her. While the boy fumbled and pushed himself into her awkwardly, she imagined a handsome knight or maybe one of her father's guards, all toned muscles and intense eyes, looming over her, covering her body with theirs.

A few years later, Ashe Trevelyan learned two things: The power a woman could hold over a man and how dangerous it could be to play games. There were always consequenses. Like that time a Templar came to the Trevelyan estate to oversee her training. He was supposed to watch if she would make a suitable Templar. She'd always had skills with a blade and her parents thought it would tame her if she were to focus on becoming one. In fact, they thought it would be perfect seeing as she had always seemed fascinated and intrigued by Templars, and that was true. They just didn't know it was because Ashe wanted to fuck them all. Well, maybe not all of them. Just the pretty ones.

That Templar had been the first one that Ashe had broken. He had taken vows, he could be trusted and so his training sessions with her were unsupervised. They'd be alone for hours, sweating, panting, _touching._ She didn't even have to do that much before the first cracks in his resolve to be a good, little Templar appeared. In less than a week after he'd first arrived, he fucked her against the wall in the training hall and it was everything Ashe had thought it would be. He was handsome and she loved the way his muscles flexed underneath the tips of her fingers when she slid them down his torso while he drove himself into her, again and again, biting his lip to keep the groans from leaving his throat. To be fucked by a man was nothing like being fumbled with by a boy.

But he overstayed his welcome. He was supposed to be there only for a week to assess her potential but he persuaded Lord Trevelyan that he needed another after that. And then another. After almost three weeks had passed, he started change. At first, Ashe didn't understand it. He started to ask her to stay with him for a while after the sex was done, said that he wanted to hold her close and just talk. He told her how beautiful she was, how her deep, red hair was like the color of the burning sunset, how her lips were made for his. She had groaned inwardly when she understood that he was actually in love with her. Maker, what an idiot. Why would he fall in love with someone he could never have? He was a Templar who'd taken vows of chastity and she was the daughter of Bann Trevelyan. Besides, the man had to be at least thirty years old. Wasn't _she_ the one who was supposed to have stupid crushes?

When she decided that he needed to leave before it got any worse, she went to her father to suggest that he should come by to one of the training sessions to see her progress. She never told the Templar about that, though. So when Lord Trevelyan walked through the door to the training hall with two of Ashe's older brothers in tow, and saw his sixteen-year-old daughter being held down to the floor and fucked by someone who was supposed to be the safest company in the world, all kinds of shit broke loose. Screams erupted and they ripped him off her and the Templar didn't even have time to beg for mercy before the Bann and his sons had beaten him to death.

Ashe sat cowering on the floor as she watched the life go out of the man who'd just been inside her. When her father approached her, she raised her hands in front of her face, thinking in a panic that they would do the same to her. Lord Trevelyan mistook her fear for him for trauma and assumed that she had been raped. She didn't contradict him. Maybe she would have if the man had still been alive, but he was dead and there was no point in incriminating herself. This was not what she thought was going to happen. She had assumed that the Templar would be sent away and that she would be yelled at.

But she learned a lot that day about what a woman could do to a man, not just to a lover but to fathers and brothers as well, how strong their emotions could be when it came to their women. In those weeks, she learned the very first steps of control, manipulation, passion and violence. She would have great use for them all once she became the Inquisitor.

* * *

She could feel him staring at her again. He hadn't always looked at her like that. When she had first come to the Inquisition, he'd barely given her a second glance. She'd had no time to think much about him then, either. But as time went on and she spent more time in Haven and subsequently Skyhold, she had a hard time keeping her eyes off him. He was her type _exactly, _so spot on that it was ridiculous. Extremely handsome, tall, well buildt. Confident, strong, commanding.

_Guess a Commander needs to be commanding._

At first, she knew he thought of her as a child. She was nineteen years old when she became the Inquisitor. She doubted he would have even accepted her in that role were it not for the fact that she was strong, a warrior as she was, and the way she held the sword they'd given her high and confident in the air above the cheering crowd in Skyhold when they announced her new title.

His lack of interest in her only intrigued her. She loved a challenge. By the time she'd defeated Corypheus, she'd shown enough ruthlessness, power, authority and guts to make bold decisions that he'd started to regard her as an adult and not a child. She could tell by the way he spoke to her and Maker, how he looked at her with that gaze of his – so intense it made her knees weak, although she would never show it.

She could see the familiar spark of lust in his eyes and she delighted in it. She touched herself whenever she had a quiet night to herself, thinking of those eyes boring into her while he was on top of her in bed, thrusting himself into her wetness with long, powerful strokes. She wanted to feel his hands grip her hips so hard it would leave her bruised, she wanted to feel his teeth nip at her skin, his sweat dripping down on her. She _wanted _to hear that deep, rumbling voice tell her all the dirty things he wanted to do to her.

But she would not give herself to him so easily. While she may have liked the challenge of changing his feelings for her, it still pissed her off that she'd had to work so hard for it. She was used to getting what she wanted much quicker.

So now that he was standing there on the other side of the war table, undressing her with his eyes while slowly licking his lips so carefully that only she noticed, she knew she would enjoy making him squirm. She would tease him until he became desperate. She didn't know what excited her more – to see how long he could resist or the thought of him breaking immediately and just claim her one day when she didn't expect it. Maybe pull her into a dark corridor when she was walking through Skyhold at night, kiss her until she wouldn't be able to breathe before he ripped her clothes off...

Both choices were heavenly.

"Inquisitor?"

"Uhm, yes Cassandra, you were saying?"

The Seeker looked at her and shook her head. "Just because Corypheus is dead doesn't mean you should stop paying attention. Anyway, as I was saying... King Alistair is arriving any minute now, we should get out to the throne room to greet him. The rest of the meeting can wait."

Right, King Alistair. She was actually quite excited, she'd never met royalty before. And she'd heard that he was a handsome ex-templar too. And a damned hero. Couldn't get any better than that.

"Yes, of course, lead the way."

Cassandra exited the room first. Josephine followed her, and on her way out she stopped by Ashe's side and smiled wickedly at her. "You know, Inquisitor, I hear King Alistair is quite curious about you. He's been asking around about you, not anything to do with the Inquisition, but personal matters. Like what types of food you like, your favorite flowers and such thing. He's unmarried, still, after all this time. Inquistor and King, now that's a powerful union if you ask me."

The Antivan winked and followed Cassandra out of the room.

Ashe felt a little stunned by what Josie had said, but very intrigued. It would be fair game for her to flirt with the King? Her thoughts were interrupted when Cullen came into her view as he made to leave as well. She was surprised when he walked up to her and stopped only inches away.

"Forget what Josie said." His tone was hard.

Ashe arched her eyebrow at him. "Oh? And why should I do that, Commander?"

His eyes were so intense, she could barely meet his gaze. Maker, he was so close.

_He smells so fucking good..._

"He has a whole harem of girls in Denerim. He's not worthy of your attention. He'll only want to use you, trust me."

Ashe felt flattered by his obvious jealosy, but also annoyed. She didn't like being told what to do. She stuck her chin out and stared back at him, fixing his eyes with the same intensity he carried.

"Maybe I like being used," she said, her tone low and more than a little suggestive. She expected to see an irritated scowl on his face at her words, but if anything he just looked more hungry, his eyes darkening further.

Before he had time to respond, Josephine stuck her head back in through the door and cleared her throat.

"I can hear the doors opening out there, His Majesty must be here now. Hurry along, Inquisitor."

Ashe tore her gaze from Cullen and followed Josephine. She could hear Cullen let out a dissatisfied grunt before he followed as well, and she smiled to herself.

When they entered the throne room, Ashe hurried to stand in front of the Andrastian throne. A gaudy, over-sized thing, but a statement she felt nessecary to remind people that visited who was in charge here.

A ridiculous amount of guards wearing Ferelden's royal crest entered the hall and positioned themselves along the walls and the exits. After them, a tall, blond man walked in and Ashe almost squealed in delight. He wasn't just handsome, he was fucking gorgeous. Before he'd even reached her, she already imagined what he looked like out of his armor.

When he did arrive in front of her, he gave her the most attractive smile she'd ever seen on anyone. The way his lips quirked up a bit more on one side, Maker... She wanted to trace every inch of those lips with her tongue.

He bowed his head slightly and grabbed her hand, and she almost whimpered when he put his lips to her skin in a soft kiss. When the kiss was finished, he didn't release her hand. She could see Cullen shift his stance in the corner of her vision.

_Good, let him know what he's been missing all this time._

"My Lady, it's such a pleasure to finally meet you."

She bowed her head in return, skin burning where his hand still touched hers. "And for me as well, Your Majesty. It's an honor to have you here as our most welcome guest."

"You flatter me, my Lady." The King didn't even glance around at the others standing around her. He only looked at her.

"Please, Your Majesty, call me Ashe."

He smiled even wider.

"I can't deny the request of someone as beautiful as you, my Lady. And from what I've heard about your ruthless dealings with your enemies, I would hate to become one, to even risk it by denying you..." he kissed her hand again, "any wish you might have. So Ashe it is, then."

She laughed softly and he still didn't release her hand. She swept her eyes across her companions and Cassandra looked mildly intrigued, Josephine positively excited and Cullen...

Cullen looked like he wanted to punch the grin off the King's face, teeth bared and all.

_Oh, this will be so much fun._

_But do not have too much fun_, she reminded herself. There are always consequenses.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Alistair**_

The Inquisitor had been something of a mystery to him. He would have travelled to Skyhold sooner if he hadn't had his hands full all this time. The war, the breach, everything that had happened had claimed his attention to the fullest and he'd been needed in Denerim. But he was of course kept in the loop about what the Inquisition was up to and had probably heard every rumor there was to hear about Ashe Trevelyan.

He thought of those rumors now as he stood before the woman herself with her hand still in his, measuring her with his eyes, finding himself fascinated by how she confidently met his gaze and held it with without faltering. He wasn't used to that, he was more accustomed to averted eyes and blushing cheeks whenever he did catch a woman looking at him.

But she was his equal, he supposed. The Inquisitor answered to no one, not even a king. She was in a league of her own and that intrigued him.

As he exchanged pleasantries with her, she claimed his full attention, which was a feat in itself considering how boring he usually found both people and meetings these days, but this one... He couldn't turn his eyes away from her. She was beautiful, yes, but not in a very obvious way. Her red hair was eyecatching enough, deep like the color of blood, and she had beautiful blue eyes. But what really caught his attention was the way she carried herself. She looked sure of herself, at ease with her powerful position. She was quite tall, almost as tall as he was. As his eyes roamed over her body, he appreciated her curves – she was toned but not too skinny and she looked strong, as he'd expected. He'd heard she'd become a master with the sword during her travels. She seemed sharp as a blade herself, he bet nothing escaped her attention. And all of this was packaged into a woman barely out of her teens. She couldn't be more than twenty years old. It was an odd mix of confidence, maturity and youthfulness.

He could feel excitement welling up inside him and he kissed her hand again, letting his lips linger on her skin for an almost inappropriately long time. She laughed delightfully at what he'd just said and didn't pull her hand away from his, even as she lifted her head and swept her eyes over the people around them. He followed her line of sight and saw her stop for a fraction of a second on a man standing a few yards away before she turned her eyes back to Alistair. She still didn't let go of his hand and Alistair watched the other man curiosly. He assumed that was the Commander. Alistair vaguely remembered him from his visit to Ferelden's Circle of Magi over ten years ago, and had of course been informed of his current position. Cullen Rutherford. The man looked different now. Above all, he looked like he wanted to run Alistair through with the sword he carried by his side, judging by the way he gripped its handle and stared furiously at him. Alistair didn't even have to guess why.

_Very interesting._

He smiled to himself and stepped even closer to Ashe. Scandalous to do so in front of all these people, but Alistair had stopped caring about such things a long time ago. No one cared for what he wanted, cared about _him. _The only person who did that was himself and he would take what he wanted.

He could hear Ashe's breath catch in her throat as he leaned closer to her and there was no mistaking the darkening in her eyes and the small tug at the corner of her mouth. She was pleased by what he was doing.

_She wants to play, too._

"Ashe, we have so much to discuss. Not just business, I would love to get to know you better, you are our saviour after all." He spoke his next words louder, so that everyone would hear. Especially Cullen. "I want to have dinner with you alone tonight." _Don't forget to ask nicely, she's not to be ordered around. _"Would you do me the honor of accepting?"

Ashe smiled at him, her expression neutral but he was close enough to see how she held herself back, her lips twitching from the strain of not giving him a wider smile.

"The honor is mine, Your Majesty, I'd be delighted to join you."

Alistair kissed her hand for the third time in less than a few minutes and murmurs and hushed whispering broke out among the nobles who were packed into the hall to watch the King's arrival. He could see from the corner of his eye how Cullen took a step towards them, his expression even more murderous than before, but Ashe snapped her head around towards him and stared at him warningly and the Commander stopped. He turned his gaze fully to Alistair and stared at him with open hostility. He had guts, showing such obvious animosity towards the King. But Alistair was far from intimidated, more curious than anything else. If Cullen and Ashe were together, why would he be so angry? He guessed that they weren't. Alistair didn't care much either way. She would be his soon, whether she was involved with Cullen or not.

"You must be tired from the long journey through the mountains, Your Majesty. My people will show you to your quarters. I have some business to attend to and then I'm yours. All night."

Alistair didn't fail to notice how she didn't lower her voice one bit as she said that last part. He smiled at her again and nodded before following a steward out of the hall.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

Ashe watched the King walk away from the hall with a retinue of guards and servants. That had gone even better than she'd hoped. He was dead handsome, charming and a lot more forward than she expected. He certainly seemed to know what he wanted, and she hoped by the Maker that that was her. It was a wicked bonus that Cullen had been so provoked as well. She wondered what he would do now that she'd announced so boldly that she would be the alone with the King all night. She looked back at him. While most other people had started to leave the hall to go back to the usual business, he stood firmly rooted in place, staring after the King until he was out of sight.

"Inquisitor, meet me in my office after lunch. We need to discuss the trade routes I mentioned earlier," Joesphine said and Ashe nodded her agreement. The ambassador left as well and Ashe started to make her way down to the kitchen. She noticed that she was starving now that the excitement had settled a little. She heard footsteps approach her rapidly from behind in the otherwise empty corridor. She didn't need to turn around to see who it was, she would recognize that clang of armor anywhere.

"What do you want, Commander?" she said and kept on walking.

A hand grabbed her wrist and he spun her around.

"Do you mind telling what in the Fade that was back there?" He looked so angry.

"What do you mean?" She tried to shake off his grip but he held onto her, hard.

"Don't play ignorant with me, Ashe. I know you too well, you always know exactly what you're doing. Do you _want _rumors to circle around of how you spread your legs for the King?"

"Wha-" Her outraged response was cut short when he yanked her to him. His face was right in hers and the adrenaline from the anger and from being pressed against him made her heart beat so loudly she doubted she would even hear what he had to say, but she did.

"I saw, along with everyone else, what was on his mind. He devoured you with his eyes, he kissed your hand but he might as well have kissed your lips. And you didn't stop him, you stood there like a love-struck little _girl,_" he hissed at her.

"Don't you fucking call me that." She ripped her arm out of his grip and stepped back. He'd really pushed the wrong button now. "How dare you speak to me like that? Like I have to stand here and listen to your patronizing! I can't fucking help what the King says to me, or how he looks at me. What was I supposed to do, be rude to him, to the King of Ferelden, because my Commander thinks he's 'devouring me with his eyes'? Of all the stupid..."

"You didn't have to encourage him!" Cullen yelled. "He's been King for ten years and still hasn't taken a wife, he's too busy playing with his toys and now he clearly wants you to be one! He doesn't care about you, he just wants to get into your smalls."

"Oh, do you know him that well? Close personal friends, are you? Have you ever even met before? You're so fucking presumptuous!"

"I have met him before, yes. In the Circle at Lake Calenhad. He was there with the Hero of Ferelden, who was clearly in love with him. As soon as he became King, he cast her aside just for being an elf."

Ashe snorted. "Please, we've all heard that story a million times. Besides, why the fuck would I even care? You think I want him to sweep me off my feet, profess his undying love for me and make me his Queen?"

"I wouldn't be surprised."

She slapped him, hard. Cullen reeled back from the impact and stared at her, incredulous as he touched his cheek with his hand.

"I haven't fought every hour of every day for more than a year, giving my everything to the Inquisition, proving myself over and over again, for you to spew shit like that to my face. I will do what I wish, and you are _not _going to tell me what I can and cannot do. You can drop the act of being concerned about my feelings getting hurt or afraid of what rumors might spead. That's not your problem and we both know it. I don't care if you want to punch his face for looking at me like that, even if he is the King. I don't care about your reasons for hating him, Maker, I would even be flattered if it's because of me. But I won't tell you what to do, that's the difference between us. If you can't see that, Cullen, you can go fuck yourself.

He winced and she turned around and started to walk away again.

"Ashe..." he called after her, but she kept on walking and this time he didn't follow.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

That woman infuriated him. Why was she so stubborn, why didn't she listen to him? He sighed as he walked the other way out of the corridor, heading for his tower. He'd stepped out of line, he knew that. He shouldn't have tried to force her to see things his way, that was not the way to handle her.

_What a brilliant, mastermind strategist I am..._

He was going to have to change tactics. If she didn't turn down that leering fucker out of her own sense, he'd make her want something else more. _Someone _else.

He felt the rage build up in him again just thinking about how Alistair had looked at her. He had no _right _to waltz in there like he owned the place, looking at _Cullen's _Inquisitor like he already had her in the palm of his hand.

Cullen slammed the door to his study shut behind him and grabbed the half full bottle of wine from the shelf and took a large swig from it, and then another. He couldn't stop picturing that idiot's lips on Ashe and he snarled and threw the bottle with full force against the wall.

He came to a decision and left the office again, not caring about the wine and broken glass scattered across the floor. He headed straight for the kitchen.

When he arrived, he found Ashe sitting on one of the tables, eating and apparently sulking. She didn't see him enter and looked startled when his voice boomed out over the room.

"Everybody leave us."

The cooks looked up at him and knew better than to argue. They obeyed, and after the last one shut the door behind him, Cullen was alone with Ashe, who still looked surprised.

"Commander, what are you..."

Her words faltered when he swiftly walked up to the table she was sitting at and swept everything around her down to the floor with his arms, food, drinks, everything. He stood between her legs and put his hand up to her cheek, not quite touching her. Her mouth was wide open but she didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry about before. I shouldn't have tried to tell you what to do. And I'm sorry I called you a little girl. I know damned well that you're a grown woman." He trailed his thumb along her jaw and he could have sworn she had stopped breathing. "Can you forgive me?"

She only nodded, unable to speak. He leaned in closer and his pulse raced. The scent of her was so intoxicating and he couldn't stop staring at her lips, slightly parted, _for him._

"I know I can't tell you what to think or do. So I'll just show you what _I _think. Do you want that, Ashe?"

She swallowed hard and nodded again. "Yes," she whispered.

He pressed his lips to hers and fire tore through his veins when she responded and opened her mouth for him to explore. He pushed his tongue in and had to stop himself from ripping her shirt off when she let out a small moan. She kissed him feverishly and he gripped her hips hard and pulled her to him. He could feel the heat radiating off her skin and Maker, he wanted to lower his hand and stroke her between her legs, he wanted her to wrap her legs around his waist so he could grind his hard cock against her. He wanted to fuck her right there on the table.

But he forced himself to stop. He leaned back, leaving her lips swollen and red from the kiss as she panted and tried to keep her composure.

"If you want to play this game, if _he _wants to..." Cullen spit out the word. "... so be it. I can play, too. The prize is worth it." Before she could say anything, he claimed her mouth again and was rewarded with her hands tugging at him, trying to press him closer to her. But he wouldn't give her too much at one time, he had to leave her wanting more. He bit down on the skin on her neck and she moaned loudly, bucking against him when he licked the bite, circling his tongue around and around on her sensitive skin. "I bet you like it rough, Ashe... You might not like being told what to do out here, but in the bedroom, I'm sure you would like me to command you to do all sorts of filthy things, wouldn't you?"

She only moaned and gripped his arm harder in response. He chuckled low in his throat and he felt her shiver. He licked his way up to her lips again and kissed her hard before pulling back.

"Look at me, Ashe."

She opened her eyes, looking heady with desire, and met his gaze while licking her swollen lips.

"Go to the King tonight. But you're going to be thinking of me, and what I'll do to you when I finally have you naked in front of me. I will pleasure you until you beg me to stop. Think about that, Ashe. I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of."

He took several steps back, still looking at her. It was fucking hard to distance himself from the dishevelled, sexy woman who sat in front of him, her legs still parted, for him, her breathing fast and shallow, her eyes dark with lust, for_ him._

"Don't leave, Cullen... I want more. Now." Her tone was low but he could tell she was trying to sound commanding.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "Soon, Inquisitor, soon. Patience is a virtue, and with virtue comes great rewards. Great, great fucking rewards."

He smiled and he was the one who left this time.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Alistair**_

Alistair knocked on the door to the Inquisitor's private quarters, where he'd been invited to dine with her. A servant opened and four of his guards positioned themselves outside the door.

"Come in, Your Majesty." The servant held his arm out, motioning for Alistair to enter the room. A small table with two chairs was set up in front of the fireplace. "The Inquisitor will be with you shortly." Alistair sat down and the servant poured him some wine before he disappeared out the door. His eyes scanned the room. It was luxurious, not unlike his own bedroom back in the Royal Palace. He took a sip of the wine and turned his head when he heard the door open and close again. He almost spurted the mouthful of red liquid back out when he saw Ashe standing leaning against the door.

_Maker, what is she wearing?_

His eyes roamed over her body. She was wearing leather leggings, so tight that he wished that she would turn around so he could see how they hugged the curve of her ass. Her upper body was covered, or not so covered, by a black and red corset made of lace and leather. Her breasts were pushed together in the most delicious way and her shoulders and her arms were completely bare.

Alistair cleared his throat and stood up as she walked towards the table. He swept his eyes across her form again before he took her hand in his, bringing it up to his face to kiss it for the fourth time that day.

"My Lady Ashe, had I known you intended to torture me like this, I would have... No, who am I kidding, I would have come either way." He smiled at her and she raised her eyebrows in mock surprise.

"Whatever do you mean, Your Majesty?" She smiled sweetly at him. That look of innocence on her face and the absolute sin of her body made him want to throw her on the bed and claim her as his own.

"I think you know what I mean, dearest Ashe. You look ravishing." He took another step closer to her and placed his hand on her waist while still holding her other hand close to his lips. Her smile turned wicked. "Careful now, I have a limit to what I can endure and I cannot answer for what happens when that limit is crossed," he said, his tone dropped to little more than a growl.

The tension in the air was so thick he could almost taste it. What this woman did to him was incomparable to anything he'd experienced so far in his life. She'd barely entered the room and here they were, a heartbeat from being all over each other, staring, breathing hard.

Ashe finally seemed to compose herself. "You're a delight, Your Majesty. But surely, you must be starving by now."

"Mhmm." He let his eyes dip lower again, completely unashamed. She wasn't wearing what she was wearing to be modest. "I certainly am."

She giggled and Alistair looked up at her face again. He'd almost forgotten how young she was. He found himself suddenly wanting to know everything about her.

He reluctantly let go of her hand and pulled one of the chairs out for her. She sat down and nodded her thanks to him before he sat down on the opposite side. They both grabbed some food from the plates in front of them in silence. The air was still charged with tension and he watched her every move.

"So, Your Majesty, how..."

"Please, Ashe," he interrupted her. "Call me Alistair. We're equals, are we not?"

She regarded him with an expression that was hard to read, leaning her head ever so slightly to the side while doing so. What went on in her pretty head was still a mystery to him, but he intended to find out every last detail, sooner or later.

"If you insist, Alistair." She smiled and he found himself grinning back at her. They sat like that for several seconds, just staring at each other, until Ashe finally started eating. Alistair did the same.

"How is Skyhold treating you?" she asked between bites of the delicious food.

"It's very impressive. You've done wonders here, I have no doubt most of it is your doing."

"I've had lots of help. From our people and our soldiers, and my companions most of all."

"Ah, yes, your companions. They're almost as famous as you. I've corresponded with Ambassador Montilyet a few times, and everyone has heard of Seeker Pentaghast. Leliana I know since the Blight, as I'm sure you know. We travelled together for a long time. Never in a million years would I have thought she would be Divine ten years later."

Ashe's eyes lit up. "You simply must tell me all about your adventures during the Blight someday. I can't wait to hear all the juicy stuff about Leliana."

"Just say the word and everything is yours." He winked at her and judging from the smug smile on her face, the double meaning was not lost on her.

"I've met your Commander once as well, you know."

He expected her to stiffen at that but she didn't move an inch and didn't show in any way if she already knew that or not.

"Oh? He never said." Her tone betrayed what her body did not. So Cullen _had _told her of their encounter.

_Interesting._

"In the broken Circle, I'm sure you've heard the story of what happened there during the Blight. It was sad, really... Poor man. I'm glad he's doing better these days."

Ashe didn't say anything.

"Are the two of you involved in some way?" he asked.

She looked a bit surprised at his question, which pleased him. It told him a lot about her to get these kinds of reactions out of her.

"That's a rather personal question."

"He looked at me like he wanted to rip my throat out today, that's rather personal as well, wouldn't you agree?" His tone was intentionally hard.

She frowned and looked irritated. "That was unacceptable, he shouldn't have acted like that." She sighed before continuing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that it was _too _personal. You can ask me anything you like. We're not together, if that's what you're wondering."

Alistair shook his head and let out a low chuckle while plucking at the food on his plate.

"What?" Ashe sought his eyes, her face curious and amused. He kept casually looking over the various dishes on the table when he spoke next.

"The man's clearly an idiot. How he could ever leave you alone is beyond me. If I were in his shoes, here, working so close to you all this time..."

"Yes?" Her eyes were glowing with expectation. He raised his gaze to her.

"Let's just say I wouldn't be such a fool."

She couldn't help a smile from spreading across her face - he could see her struggle with it and lose. His comment had pleased her. He raised his glass and she did the same, and they both drank deeply of the wine.

"What about you, Alistair? Haven't you met anybody of interest yet?"

He laughed and drank again before answering.

"I won't lie and say I live like a chaste man. I like women. I _love_ them, actually. But you of all people probably know how hard it is to be in our kind of position. I'm sure you recieve a constant stream of proposals."

She laughed softly and swallowed the last of her wine. Alistair immediately refilled her glass when she set it down. "Do I ever... It's relentless, isn't it? Maker, none of them can take a hint either. Has it at least calmed down for you know these days?"

"Andraste, I wish it had. It's the other way around, sadly. The longer I remain unmarried, the more desperate they become, they're so sure I will pick a wife at random any moment now." He smiled and she laughed again.

"You're still young, Alistair. You can't be a day over thirty."

"That's observant of you. I'm not, actually. But in two weeks I will be."

"Really?" She looked excited. "The King's thirtieth birthday! How have I not heard of this? Josie always pesters me with these sorts of things, and the one time it's actually something interesting, she doesn't tell me!"

Alistair chuckled. "I'm glad you find it interesting. That's actually part of the reason for my visit. I want to personally invite you to the celebrations as my highest guest of honor."

* * *

_**Ashe**_

_He wants to what?_

Excitement rushed through her as Alistair's words sunk in.

"I know you've done several similar things at Empress Celene's gatherings," he continued. "I don't want Orlais to steal all your attention, Ferelden needs ties to the Inquisition just as much as they do."

_Oh._

Ashe's excitement instantly shrivelled and dropped down into a ball in her stomach.

"Of course, that's the offical reason. The real one is a bit more selfish on my part." He smiled widely at her and she tried not to get her hopes up about what he was going to say next, but it was difficult as she watched his dazzling, charming smile. "The truth is, I'd like nothing more that to have a beautiful, intelligent woman by my side that night, one I know is there because she truly wants to be and doesn't spend the entire evening sucking up to me. Maker, it would even be refreshing if you threw a couple of insults my way instead."

She laughed at that and felt herself warm to his suggestion again. If he wanted her there for just being _her..._

"I would love to, Alistair."

He looked very pleased. "I'm glad to hear it." His voice rumbled from deep within his chest and Ashe could feel heat rising in her cheeks. Her entire body tingled when he spoke like that. "Finally something I _want _for my birthday."

He looked entirely serious and Ashe almost melted under his gaze. By the Maker, how he looked at her...

Just like Cullen looked at her. She didn't feel guilty for enjoying Alistair's attention, though. Her Commander had had a long time to make his move and it was so typically male that he'd waited until someone else showed interest, suddenly in such a hurry to be possessive. He had thought he'd been so smart, making her beg for more of him earlier that day, and in a way she guessed it had been smart since she _did _have a hard time trying not to think about him. But leaving her hot and horny, right before she'd be alone with his rival, that was not very clever of him.

The King really looked like he wanted to devour her now, just like Cullen had said earlier. And she wanted him to. She wouldn't let him, not yet. But Maker, how she _wanted._

She needed to change the subject.

"Tell me about the celebrations, what's the plan?"

They talked for a long time, first about the his upcoming birthday and then about their adventures. She told him stories from her time in the Inquisiton and he of his time during the Blight. She found him to be utterly fascinating and realized that she was doomed. One of the two most handsome men she'd ever seen, and definitely one of the most interesting people she'd talked to, ever. Maybe she should just _let _them fight over her and she'd pick the one who won, because how the fuck would she ever be able to choose?

_Hold your horses, Ashe, you don't even know if the King wants to..._

But who was she trying to fool? She knew men, all their tells, their body language. Even if the King was unusual, he was still a man. And she could tell what this man wanted, too. She didn't know how _much _he wanted from her, but in some capacity he definitely did.

"It's been a lovely evening, Ashe. I would have liked to do this again before I leave, but there's so little time. Tomorrow is the last night I'm here before I need to return to my duties at home, and I should think it would seem rude of me not to dine with the rest of your inner circle then."

Ashe nodded. "That's true, Josephine would die if she missed such an opportunity." She smiled fondly thinking of her friend. Alistair rose from his chair and walked over to the door and she followed. "Perhaps I can show you around a bit more tomorrow morning, before my meetings. Or maybe you would prefer to sleep in?"

Alistair snorted. "Sleep, rather than spend time with Ferelden's most beautiful woman? You must be mad. I can think of a million things I'd rather do than sleep while I'm here. Unless it's with you, of course..."

Ashe almost gasped at his brazen words but answered his smirk with one of her own. He caught her hand in his and she expected him to kiss the top of it again but he quickly turned it over and planted a soft kiss on her wrist instead. She did let out a small gasp this time. It felt so unexpectedly intimate. He took her other hand in his free one and kissed her left wrist as well. He was holding both of her hands in his now. He was so _warm._ He pulled her closer, his face mere inches away from hers, his _lips _so close, Maker...

She couldn't stop staring at those lips.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm screwed now. _

He was so close she could feel his breath on her face.

"I can hardly wait for tomorrow, Ashe. I wish you a good night." He leaned in for what was probably supposed to be a kiss on the cheek, but it seemed he couldn't help himself and she drew in a sharp breath when he kissed the corner of her mouth, the small space where their lips met burning hot as white flames. His breathing sounded just as irregular as hers and his touch lingered on her for several seconds before he let go of her.

"Good night, Alistair."

He gave her one last dazzling smile before he opened her door and slipped out, closing it behind him.

* * *

_**Alistair**_

Alistair felt more than pleased as he left the Inquisitor's quarters, his guards in tow. She was truly a fascinating woman, and Andraste, she was as sexy as they came. He was sure that if he'd kissed her back there when he'd said goodnight, she wouldn't have objected in the slightest, quite the opposite. She was hard to read, he gave her that, but her eyes burned when he looked at her with desire of his own. But he needed to play this just right. If she'd been one of the usual women around him, he would have taken her to bed straight away and fucked her senseless and be done with her. But Ashe was not a usual woman. He was glad to have found that the more she talked, the more he wanted to know. Her experiences and her views on life - what little he'd learned in their far too short time together – were truly interesting. That was _not _something he found often in a noblewoman. He wondered if she would have still been like this had she not been the Inquisitor. If she'd come to his court as just the daughter of Bann Trevelyan, would he still had found her so fascinating?

It was impossible to say, of course. He liked to think so, but couldn't deny that her adventures and her position was something that intrigued him. It was something that connected them, their similar experiences.

He _wanted _to fuck her, of course. He was sure she was wild in bed, he could just tell. He smiled to himself at the thought and heat rushed through him as he pictured her sitting on top of him, riding his cock with that ridiculously hot corset still on her.

But the timing had to be right. If he wanted more...

He sighed. He didn't really know what he wanted. He'd never really wanted anyone for more than sex before, not since Mahariel ten years ago, and that had ended badly.

Right before reaching the guest quarters, he turned around to adress the captain of his guards.

"I need some air to clear my head. I'll take a walk on the battlements, I think. I want to be left alone."

The captain's jaw tightened.

"You can stay at the bottom of the stairs to where I'm at, if that makes you feel any better. You'll hear if anything happens from there."

The captain nodded and they ventured outside to the courtyard. Alistair started to climb the stone steps of one of the stairs leading up to the battlements while his men waited at the base.

When he reached the top, he walked out on the passageway and leaned his back against the stone and looked up at the sky.

He was startled from his thoughts when he heard a low, growling voice snarl at him from his side: "Did you touch her?"

Alistair's head snapped around to where the voice was coming from and found himself stared down by the Commander. The man looked far from happy.

Before he could respond, Cullen continued. "Is that why you came here, of all fucking places? Standing outside my tower in the middle of the night after your little meeting, to gloat?"

Alistair looked quickly at the door behind Cullen. It was standing slightly ajar and from what he could see, it was the other man's office.

"No, I... I didn't know you stayed here. As for the touching part, that's really none of your business, is it?"

_Mistake._

For a big man, Cullen certainly moved fast. In less than a second, he'd grabbed Alistair by the collar and yanked him to him.

"You think I give a shit about your title, Alistair?" he hissed. "I might have been under a lot of stress the last time we saw each other, but I wasn't blind. You followed Mahariel around like a little puppy dog, incapable of making your own decisions. _She _was the hero, not you. She made you King, she made you what you are now and as soon as you didn't need her anymore, you threw her away like fucking garbage. I won't let you do that to Ashe."

Alistair shoved his hands against Cullen's chest, making him lose his grip.

"What the fuck would you know about that? You don't know anything! You just want an excuse, to have Ashe to yourself. Well, _friend_," he spat, "you're too fucking late. She told me you are not together so why in the Fade should I stay away? I don't give a shit about what you want, I only care for what _she _wants, and you should fucking respect her wishes!"

Cullen snorted. "You say I don't know anything, but you're the one in the dark. I _know _Mahariel."

Alistair's mouth fell open in surprise. "What do you mean? Know her how?"

Cullen smiled in response. Alistair growled at the implications and flung himself at the man, fist connecting with his face. Cullen reeled back but quickly regained his composure and hit back fast as a snake.

Alistair coughed and staggered backwards into the stone, holding his hand up to his aching jaw.

Cullen just stared at him and shook his head.

"You've gone soft, Your Majesty." His words dripped with contempt. "You're not worthy of her."

Alistair lunged for Cullen again and they both tumbled to the ground, fighting and cursing each other until they heard running from the steps below.

The King's guards came rushing towards them and they both let go of each other.

"Your Majesty! What's going on? Should we detain this man?"

Cullen laughed as he stood up and Alistair shook his head as he too rose from the ground. "No, there's no need. Me and the Commander had a difference of opinion, that's all."

The captain looked sceptical and turned towards Cullen, eyeing him suspiciously. Cullen chuckled. "By all means, take me into your custody. Let's see how the Inquisitor likes it when she hears that a couple of the King's simpelton guards has detained her Commander in her own stronghold. You _have _heard of her favorite way to punish people who dishonor her or her people, right? Off with their heads." Cullen swept a finger dramatically over his throat to illustrate what he meant and the guards flinched.

Alistair shook his head at the ridiculousness of the Commander's threat. Well, maybe not so ridiculous, Alistair _had _heard that it was indeed her most favored way of executing prisoners. But nonetheless, he doubted she would apply that punishment to his guards regardless of what they'd done. They were _his _guards.

He still wanted to punch the other man. He felt the rage well up inside him again when he thought about the lies he spewed about Mahariel.

_He's just trying to antagonize you._

"Come on, we're leaving." He waved his hand and the guards followed him as he started walking. He stopped after a few steps and turned back to face Cullen. He pointed his finger at him. "This isn't over."

Cullen nodded in agreement. "You're fucking right about that," he said, his tone irritatingly calm, before he disappeared into his tower.

Alistair almost shook with fury.

_That insolent piece of shit._

If he hadn't been determined before, he was now ten times more so, to make Ashe his. The Commander could rot in the Fade while Alistair made her his queen.

* * *

**Comments, thoughts? I appreciate them all!**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Ashe**_

Early the next morning, Ashe approached the guest quarters Alistair was staying in, planning to take him on a little tour of Skyhold. She was surprised to see only one guard posted outside his door. When the guard saw her, he inclined his head her way.

"Inquisitor, if you're here to see His Majesty, I'm afraid you're a bit too late. He left some time ago."

"Left? What do you mean, he left? It's six o'clock in the morning!"

The guard only shrugged and fixed his gaze forward again, not looking at Ashe anymore.

She wondered what Alistair was up to. Had he forgotten that they were supposed to meet this morning? Unlikely, since he'd told her he could hardly wait. She turned around, intent on finding him, when she heard a commotion coming from the direction of the courtyard.

_Strange, it's usually so quiet this early..._

When she arrived outside, she could see a crowd of people gathered around the soldier's practice ground. They were cheering and hooting and she could see money exchange hands in a dozen places. She strained her eyes to see who was at the center of all this attention, a feeling of dread creeping into her.

_No way, no WAY, they wouldn't..._

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Her fears were confirmed as her eyes landed on Cullen and Alistair circling each other in the middle of the crowd.

_Of all the stupid, fucking..._

She bolted forward and pushed her way through the crowd and arrived just as Cullen took a nasty blow to the face. Ashe winced but Cullen just smiled, blood covering his teeth. He looked... feral, and Ashe couldn't help herself, something in her responded and she could feel heat rising on her cheeks. Her eyes shifted over to Alistair, who was rubbing his knuckles into the palm of his other hand. She couldn't see his face since he had his back to her, but she didn't have time to think about that because that's when the King pulled his shirt over his head threw it to the side. Her eyes widened in disbelief as Cullen responed by doing the same.

_Are they fucking serious? This is embarrassing, they're behaving like boys..._

But the women who were watching screamed and cheered in response, and Ashe couldn't help but to sigh, give in and appreciate the view. Both Cullen and the King were so ripped it was ridiculous. Their muscles flexed under the early morning sun as they moved, and she suddenly found herself visualizing what it would feel like to be trapped between the two of them, with their tight, sweat-slicked muscles pressing into her naked body from either side...

She was snapped out of her daydream quite abruptly when Cullen hit Alistair in the face so hard that he reeled back and had to brace himself against the fence. She noticed how the man beside her winced and she turned her head and saw that it was Alistair's guard-captain. She leaned in closer to him so that no one else would hear her speak.

"What in the Fade is happening here? Why are they fighting?" she hissed to him.

"His Majesty wanted a bit of fresh air before he came to see you this morning. So we took this route to you quarters and..." He trailed off and Ashe gave him an irritated push on the shoulder.

"And? Continue!"

"Well, the Commander was already out here, training some of your soldiers. They were singing."

Ashe stared at him. "Singing? What the fuck is wrong with you? Just tell me why they're fighting already, or so help me!" She was more than a little annoyed with the man right now, she had no time for his evasiveness.

"Alright, Inquisitor, I'm sorry. They were singing a song about the Hero of Ferelden while they were working out. The King took it as provocation from your Commander and he challenged him to fight him in the ring."

Ashe didn't have time to be perplexed over why that had provoked Alistair before a loud cheer went through the crowd again. The two men were rolling around in the mud now, throwing punches and trying to gain the upper hand. Alistair hit Cullen in the stomach, forcing him to gasp for air and loosen his grip on Alistair. Alistair used Cullen's momentary weakness to push him down to his back and he straddled him and started hitting him in the face, over and over. People were booing and shouting now, most of them obviously rooting for their Commander, albeit far from everyone.

"I have to stop this," Ashe murmured to herself. This wouldn't do. It would undermine the authority of whoever the loser was, and that wasn't good. They _knew _that but they still behaved like children.

She stepped into the ring just as Cullen managed to throw Alistair off him and he elbowed him in the ribs with one arm and hit his jaw with his fist right after, almost too fast to see. Ashe couldn't help but to feel impressed, with both of them. Cullen was one of the best fighters she knew, and it seemed that Alistair matched him, even though he was knocked on his ass in this particular moment. If she didn't stop them now, they would be at this all day.

She stepped in between them, ignoring the booing from the crowd.

Alistair just looked past her, staring daggers at Cullen.

"I should have you arrested for treason, you dog," he hissed at the other man.

Ashe closed the distance between them quickly and lowered her voice.

"Now you listen to me, Your Majesty." Alistair winced at her use of his title and looked at her, suddenly forgetting Cullen. "You are in my stronghold now, and that is _my _Commander. You have no authority here, none, zero, squat, do you understand me? So don't threaten him, especially not when you're the one who started this. Whatever he's done, you should know better. If you would have won this idiotic fight, then his authority would be undermined, and thereby mine. And that would really, really piss me off. Do you hear?"

Alistair looked glum and she saw a hint of irritation before he smoothed out his features into what she was sure was a well-practised mask of neutrality. "Of course, My Lady, I didn't mean to offend you. I beg your forgiveness."

He turned around and walked away without another word, his guards following him. The crowd murmured disappointedly. Ashe turned towards Cullen, ready with a scolding for him too but she couldn't get the words out of her mouth when she caught sight of him. He was covered in dirt and sweat, smeared across his torso. She let her eyes roam over him and Maker, she had to press her legs together when she saw how he licked a few drops of blood from his split lip while he was inspecting his arm for injuries.

She reluctantly tore here gaze away from him and adressed the crowd. "All of you, get back to work or I'll throw you all out of Skyhold faster than you can count to five!"

No one wanted to argue with her when she was in this mood and in less than twenty seconds, the courtyard was empty except for her and Cullen. She turned around to face him again and yelped when she found him standing right behind her. He was grinning at her and she stared at the corner of his mouth where his tongue was licking off more blood.

"I'm so happy that you defended my honor," he said and gave her a mock bow.

"Oh, shut up. Explain."

He pulled her to him in a move so fast she was caught completely off guard. He nuzzled his face against her neck. "What do you wish for me to explain?" His voice was low and rough. "How much I want to push you down into the mud and fuck you, until your come runs down your legs and mixes with the _filth _on the ground?" She gasped as his tongue lapped at the skin just below her ear. Holy Andraste, the _pressure _he invoked between her legs, the heat that coiled up tight, tight, tight inside her... She was going to have to step away right this instant or she'd let him do what he wanted.

She pushed him off and took a few steps back. She steeled herself to meet his gaze and she immediately regretted it when she did. His eyes were dark and glowing in a haze of desire and they burned into her. She turned away and began walking away. "I'll have words with you later, Commander," she called over her shoulder, refusing to look at him again.

She cursed him when she heard him chuckle and then she cursed herself for being so weak. She touched her neck on the way back to her quarters and her hand came back dirty and bloody. _His _blood. It didn't help to quell the desire in her, it was the other way around.

Half an hour later, she lay soaking in the tub when there was a knock on her door. She muttered curses to herself, annoyed that she had to interrupt the only thing that could make her truly relax. She got up and dried herself lazily with a linen towel before wrapping her black silk robe around her body.

She walked over to the stairs and called "Come in!" before she went over to her desk to flip through some of the messages waiting to be read. She heard footsteps in the stairs and turned around to see Alistair emerge at the top.

_Oh, great._

She still felt angry with him but she didn't wish to be impolite.

"Your Majesty, what can I do for you?"

She could see how his eyes took in her attire before he cleared his throat. "Ashe, you must forgive me. I honestly didn't think, earlier, of the consequences, or that it might have reflected badly on you. I would never do anything to hurt you."

He looked sincere enough as he spoke and Ashe nodded. "Apology accepted. Come in, sit down." She held her arm out towards the sofa. "Would you like some breakfast? Perhaps you could tell me what happened over some tasty pastries."

He gave her a small smile and sat down. "Of course. Join me on the sofa and I will."

"I'll just go change into..."

"No need on my account, Ashe. You look breathtaking without clothes... in your robe I mean."

Her eyebrow shot up at his remark but his expression didn't change a bit. Well, if this was how he wanted to play it, just dropping random lines at her like that, she wouldn't stop him. Not as long as those lines were pleasant.

She sat down and offered him a plate of food that he took, but he didn't touch its contents.

"I'm again sorry for my behaviour, I have no excuse. But I couldn't just stand for the insult when I walked through your courtyard and heard your soldiers. They were singing about the Hero of Ferelden in a very derogatory manner, and as you know, she and I were close once, very close friends. And when I asked them to stop, your Commander told them to keep singing. So I got upset, even though I know I shouldn't let him provoke me like that. Just as I shouldn't have last night."

"What do you mean 'last night'?"

"I ran into the Commander while I took an evening walk on the battlements. He started accusing me of all sorts of things."

Ashe didn't know what to make of what he said. She was sure there were two sides to that story.

"I'm sorry you're getting dragged into the middle of this, Alistair."

He shook his head. "Don't be, I don't mind, really. Nothing can stop me from enjoying your company." His voice had dropped and it sent shivers through Ashe. Why did he have to sound so damned sexy? She found her anger evaporating quickly and she was suddenly very aware of how close they were sitting. He with only a shirt and a vest and she in nothing but a thin robe. His leg was almost touching the exposed skin of her knee. She stared at their point of contact and her eyes slowly rose up to meet his. She found him staring at her just as intensely and they both breathed hard.

"Maker forgive me, but I can't resist you," he said and tossed the plate on the floor. It clattered against the floorboards while he pulled her against him, tight, and his hot mouth was on hers.

All protests died on her lips as she felt his tongue lick them and she allowed him entry into her mouth. Their hot breath mingled and their tongues played and she felt all the blood in her shoot up in temperature. He moaned into her and she whimpered, heat pooling between her legs. He pushed her down on her back and loomed over her, his broad shoulders covering her smaller body in a way that aroused her immensly. He renewed his assault on her mouth and she snaked her arm around his waist and pushed him harder against her. She could feel his erection against the tiny scrap of fabric still covering her and she gasped as he grinded into her. He kissed her jaw and she moaned out loud when his hand parted her robe and found its way to her cunt.

"Maker, Ashe, you're so wet for me already..."

She pressed herself against his fingers, silently begging for him to move them harder against her swollen clit. He read her mind and she had to bite her lip to stop from crying out when when he slipped a finger inside her.

A harsh knock on the door below made her jump and Alistair stilled but stayed on top of her, his finger still buried inside her.

"Inquisitor!" came a muffled voice through the door. "Cassandra and Josephine are waiting for you in the war room. They told me to tell you that if you keep them waiting a minute longer, they'll start scheduling the morning meetings at five o'clock instead of seven!"

Ashe groaned and Alistair laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that made her tremble with want.

"We can't have _that _happen now, can we? I'd hate to be responsible for the Inquisitor's ruined mornings." Alistair kissed her lightly on the lips and slid his finger out of her before he stood up, leaving Ashe panting on the sofa. He slowly took his finger into his mouth and sucked on it. Ashe felt like her eyes would pop out of her head at the sight.

"Maker, but you are delicious. See you at dinner tonight?"

She only managed to nod and then he left while she scrambled to get ready for her meeting.

She didn't have time to process what had just happened while she walked swiftly towards the war room. She walked through Josephine's office and skidded to a halt when she saw Cullen standing behind Josie's desk, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed casually in front of him. She approached him warily.

"Why aren't you already at the meeting?" she asked.

"I was waiting for you, of course." He smiled, and she felt as though he knew what had just happened between her and Alistair, but of course, he couldn't know that. She took a few steps towards him and saw that his lip was still split. She walked up to him and touched the small wound without thinking about what she was doing.

"Why didn't you let the healers fix that?"

He surprised her yet again when he grabbed her and pushed her against the wall.

_Damn, he's fast._

"Because I thought you'd like to taste it first," he said, and then she was kissed violently for the second time in less than ten minutes.

And Maker take her if it didn't feel just as fucking good this time, with Cullen. She could indeed taste the blood that trickled out of his lip, and it turned her veins to fire. She felt so dirty, like a fucking desire demon, getting horny from tasting his blood. It was so weird and wrong and _good._

"Do you like the taste of me?" he whispered when she gulped for breath before smashing her lips to his again.

"Maker, yes," she moaned when he started kissing his way down her jaw to her throat. "Do _you _like it when I suck up your blood? Do you feel what you do to me?" She plunged her hand down and squeezed against the fabric of his breeches, feeling the monstrous size of his hard cock through the fabric. She gasped when she felt how big he was and her cunt ached with the desire to feel him split her open, and he groaned as she kept moving her hand against him.

"Shit, Ashe, do you feel what _you _do to me? You are sin, I _need _to fuck you..."

He shoved his tongue into her mouth again and grabbed her wrists in one big hand, shoving them against the wall above her head while he held her hip so hard she was sure it would leave brusies, and he grinded himself against her, practically fucking her with their clothes still on.

They stopped immediately when they heard the doors to the war room bang open further up the corridor.

"Ashe! Where are you? If you're not here within one minute, I swear to the Maker!"

"Fucking Cassandra," Cullen whispered, and Ashe laughed quietly while trying to straighten her clothes and smooth her messy hair. He did the same, all the while sporting a wicked smile.

"I'm not done with you, you know," Ashe said.

"Oh, I certainly hope not, you minx."

Ashe rolled her eyes but couldn't keep the stupid grin off her face.

"I mean, I still have some yelling to to for what happened this morning. But I think you should probably stay away from the dinner tonight. I don't want you two wrestling each other on the dining table."

"Fine, I won't come." He pulled her to him and leaned down and licked her ear.

"Shit, Cullen, stop it. You're making me so wet they'll see it through my fucking pants if you don't stop."

A rubmle went through him at that and his mouth was still placed against her ear. "Is that supposed to make me want to stop? You temptress. If you don't want me crashing dinner tonight, where I can make all sorts of trouble, I'm sure, come by my office after. For dessert, of course."

"ASHE TREVELYAN! Get in here now!"

"We should go, she sounds pissed..."

Cullen grabbed her arm. "Promise you'll come."

"Of course, how could I stay away?"

He looked satisfied and made to walk past her to the war room. Just when he walked past her side, he turned and looked at her. "Good. Or else I would have been forced to _make _you come. Which I will do, anyway."

She swallowed hard and followed him.

_What have I gotten myself into?_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Ashe**_

She had let them both play with her too much. They had been in control, tempted her, seduced her. It was supposed to be the other way around, and she _would _take control again.

Ashe was telling herself these things as she stood in front of the mirror beside her bed while two servants helped her with her dress. It wasn't like she normally used help for these things but the dress she was wearing this evening was... complex. Specifically chosen for the purpose she had in mind. She had a corset underneath, and draped over it was a fluttery, flowing fabric made of the brightest, most scandalous and unusal red shade she'd ever seen. You only saw a hint of the corset under it and her shoulders were left bare while the rest of the dress cascaded down her body in layers. She looked like she was a visiting princess from some exotic far-off country, and the kohl that she now dabbed around her eyes completed the look perfectly.

A few minutes later, she entered the small, private dining room that would house the dinner with King Alistair as well as Josephine, Cassandra and Dorian.

She was the last one to arrive and the others were already seated and were drinking some wine while the servants brought food to the table. Alistiar practically choked on his drink when he looked up and spotted Ashe. That seemed to have become a new habit for him whenever he saw her and she felt pleased, but her smile didn't indicate anything more than friendly greeting. She would not let him have anything for free tonight, although she did have a hard time not letting heat rise to her cheeks when she thought about how he'd been inside her this morning, driving his finger in and out of her while he kissed her like he would cease to breathe if he stopped.

But that was all he was going to get.

_For now._

She felt Alistar's eyes on her the entire evening, but she didn't look at him all that much. She was pleasant of course, but not flirtatious. She knew it would drive him mad wondering why. As she harbored no illusions whatsoever that she was anything more to him than a game, a prize to claim, she didn't feel so much as an inkling of guilt. She didn't mind being played with as long as she was running the game.

When the dinner was over, Ashe was the first one out the door. As expected, Alistair was not far behind, she'd barely entered the corridor outside the dining area before he caught up with her.

"Ashe, wait."

She kept on walking but slowed and looked over her shoulder, rewarding his predictability with a sultry smile, at long last. She could see how the deep breath he took was one of relief. He grabbed her hand and forced her to stop. Well, she would have liked to see him try to _force _her. She simply allowed herself to come at a stop at his touch.

"Did you want something, Your Majesty?"

"Ashe..." Her name fell from his lips like a caress and she steeled herself to not let it affect her. "Allow me to escort you back to your quarters. I can't bare to let you out of my sight, you are _everything _to my eyes tonight."

_Don't fall for that smooth tongue._

"I would let you, of _course, _Alistair, but I'm not headed for my quarters."

He pulled her in a little closer. "Oh? Where are you headed then?"

"I have an appointment. A meeting."

"At this hour?" His eyes narrowed. "Are you going to see Cullen?" His voice was constricted, to say the least.

"That, Your Majesty, is none of your business, it is Inquisition business. But rest assured, I will see you off tomorrow when you depart, and I promise you I will come to the celebrations in Denerim. I'll even let you escort me to the festivities if you wish."

That seemed to appease him somewhat and he nodded before placing his lips on her hand, never once letting his gaze fall from her face. His smoldering eyes were instense.

_Intense as fuck..._

"Then I shall not keep you here any longer. I wish you a good night, Ashe. You'll be in my dreams tonight, that I can assure you. As every other." With that, he dropped her hand, bowed to her and walked past her.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

Waiting for her was excruciating, especially when he knew in who's company she was. Thank the Maker that there were more people at the dinner than just the two of them, or he might have punched something. Preferably the King himself.

He was pacing back and forth in front of his desk, clenching his fists in growing anger over the late hour. What was keeping her so long? That fucker had better not put his hands on her, or so help him...

He was almost startled when his door banged open, and he was surprised to see Ashe standing in the open doorway. She always knocked quietly.

He didn't have time to do more than register the surprise before he felt his mouth drop open. She looked... There were no words.

_Straight out of a dream._

The wind tore through the fabric of her dress, making it flutter and shift. He could see the scandalous outlines of the corset she wore underneath the sinfully red waves that flowed around her. She pulled the door shut behind her and Cullen still couldn't move, couldn't stop staring. She stared back and took one step forward with her leg, which showed itself through a parting in her dress. Cullen's gaze followed her creamy, slender leg all the way up to where it disappeared under the red again, so close to her center it made his mouth water.

He heard a primal sound of lust tore up through his chest and out of his throat and stepped towards her, all sanity leaving him as his eyes feasted on her body.

"Stop." Ashe held out her hand and Cullen froze.

_Is she serious? She can't expect me to _not _ravage her looking like that._

He took another step closer.

"Do you think you are in control here?"

The tone of her voice made him stop his advance.

"Do you think you decide what happens next? That I'm just a silly little girl who falls for your every move?"

"Ashe, what are you... You know I don't think that."

She arched an eyebrow. Her leg was still out and he found it very difficult not to stare at it.

"Do I? How old am I, Cullen?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Answer me."

He sighed in defeat. He didn't even want to think about the answer, it made him feel like he was about to rob a cradle. "You are nineteen years old, Inquisitor."

"Yes. And how old are you, Cullen?"

"Thirty-five, Inquisitor," he answered through gritted teeth.

"You are correct. Not that I give a shit, but you understand, surely, why I find it difficult to believe that you respect me in every aspect. That you do _not _think that you have power over me since I am so young, and you have so much experience. Can you see why I have a hard time believing you, Cullen?"

"I suppose. But that doesn't make it true. I know I was hesitant when you first arrived and started to fight for the Inquisition, Ashe. But you've proven yourself over and over since then, and I've given you my complete trust and loyalty. You know I would obey your every decision. I would die for you, Ashe."

She cocked her head to the side and regarded him, expression impossible to read. It only confirmed his words that she was wise beyond her years. Any other girl her age would have been an open book.

"I know, Cullen, that is not what I'm questioning."

_Where is she going with this?_

"You know that I want you, Ashe. And I would never want a _girl _who didn't know what she was doing, I assure you. You have nothing to prove to me."

"Maybe I don't, but you do."

With those words, she tore her dress off in one, fluid motion, and let in fall to the floor. All that still covered her was the red corset and some sort of black lace covering her privates.

Cullen couldn't keep himself from inhaling sharply at the sight. If she wasn't going to let him touch her, this was going to be torture.

"Maker's breath, Ashe. Do you have _any _idea of what you do to me?" His voice was little more than a growl.

"You are going to stand still. Move only when I tell you to, understand?"

He nodded slowly, painfully obedient. He knew he had no choice.

"You're going to prove to me that you respect my authority."

For a few seconds, they stood there staring at each other.

"I will go to Denerim in a few weeks time. I've been personally invited to the King's thirtieth birthday celebrations."

Rage welled up in him and threatened to burst through his chest at any second.

"Absolutely not," he said, jaw tight from holding back worse words than that.

"You see? No respect. Now stand fucking still and shut up."

Her movements were slow at first, she just walked towards him until there was only an arms lenght between them. Her closeness distracted him from the anger he felt, and his eyes drifted down to her cleavage, where her breasts were pushed together by the corset in a torturous way. His gaze drifted even lower, and he drank up the slender lenght of her legs, bare all the way down to the incredibly sexy high heel shoes she was wearing, red as the rest of her ensamble.

"Like what you see?" Her voice was smooth like honey and his eyes shot up to her face again. The playful smile on her lips was as much torture to look at as her body. She was so fucking tempting.

"Andraste, yes. You _know _that."

"Would you like to hear what I would have done to you now, if I hadn't felt the need to teach you your place?"

He swallowed hard and stared at her, his eyes dark with lust. If this was a game, he would not complain. Yet.

"Tell me."

"I would have pushed you against the desk, Cullen. I would have placed wet, hot kisses on you, _everywhere._"

She was drifting closer to him and it took every Maker forsaken ounce of his willpower not to grab her and do unspeakable things to her.

"I would press myself against you, dragging my cunt against your hardness. It's already wet. It fucking runs down my legs as soon as I see you. Can be quite problematic, that."

"Ashe," he hissed.

"Keep your mouth closed." She reached her hand down between her legs and pressed her fingers to the lace that covered her. "Maker, I'm so tight with pressure... What I wouldn't give to impale myself on your thick, hard cock right now. I would moan your name, Cullen... Mhmm..."

"Fuck, just do it Ashe, let me..."

She put a finger against his lips and shushed him. Even the minimal contact that they were making now seared like she had burned him where she touched him.

"I would have started off by giving the head of your cock a kiss, a wet, little kiss while I wrap my hand around you and move up and down, while I swirl my tongue around you before taking you deep, so _deep, _Cullen..." she purred at him.

He moaned at her words, his rock hard erection threatening to burst out of his breeches any second.

"I would let you fuck my throat like a little whore... You would have the Inquisitor on her knees before you, begging you to give her more, to _feed _me with your cock... I would beg and beg for you to fuck me, in my mouth, my cunt, my ass, it wouldn't matter..."

He was panting violently now, trying, trying, _trying _to prove that she could trust him. He _would _not touch her unless she said so.

"...as long as you fucked me like an animal, like a mad man. Would you?"

"Yes! Fuck, I would give you everything you wanted. I would make you come over and over, devoting myself to your pleasure only. I would lick the juices out of you until you made more for me, I would fuck you until you couldn't fucking walk for days, Ashe. Just say the word and I'll show you."

"On your knees, Commander."

He obeyed without hesitation and dropped down, his eyes never leaving hers. She planted her heel on his chest and pushed him against the wall.

"You know I like it rough, Commander? You've already guessed it once. I may be commanding now, but in bed... That's another story. Do you know how I would beg, how I want your hands around my throat while you fuck me raw? How I want you to whisper filthy things in my ear while you do it? How I would want you to spank me, slap me, bite me. Are you really up for that, Commander?"

"Ashe, if you say one more word..."

"Then what, Commander? If you be a good little boy and do what I say, and you let me go to Denerim without a fuss, you'll get everything I've told you and more. And it's weeks still until I leave, and your 'friend' Alistair leaves tomorrow. Maybe I will let you touch me in a dark corner somewhere in the coming days, maybe I'll steal you away for a kiss. And when I come back... Do we have a deal, Commander?"

Her foot was still lodged against him and it was all he could do not to grab her leg and pull her down and fuck her right there on the cold, stone floor.

"Yes," he snarled.

She smiled wickedly. "Good. Then I wish you a good night and sweet dreams, Cullen." His name fell out of her mouth like it was something as sexy as the words she'd just spoken to him and he shuddered all over. She turned around and gathered the discarded dress from the floor and wrapped it around herself casually before she opened the door and left, not even bothering to close it behind her.

Cullen sat on the floor, unable to move or comprehend what had just transpired between them. But if that was what she wanted, if that was what it took for her promises – her filthy, unbeliavable, incredible promises – to come true, he would do it. By the holy Maker, he would.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Ashe**_

It was early morning and Ashe was on her way to say speak to Alistair before he left, in private. Her heart was beating a little faster than it probably should have. She walked through the corridor and tried to ignore the eyes she felt on her from the dozens of guards who stood vigilant along the walls leading up to the guest quarters where Alistair was staying.

_Remember, keep it cool. Don't think about how he looks, or how his voice makes you melt into a puddle on the floor... You are a grown woman, not a fawning little girl._

She arrived at the door and she straightened her back and checked herself briefly, smoothing out her jacket and casting a glance over her back to see if her leggings still fit snugly over her legs and backside, all the while trying to pretend that she wasn't standing wedged in between two guards who could see exactly what she was doing.

She raised her hand and this time knocking on the door was more successful than the last time she'd tried only to find it empty and the King fighting Cullen in the courtyard.

After a few seconds, Alistair himself opened the door and smiled widely when he saw that it was Ashe. His eyes scanned her from head to toe, _very _appreciatively.

_Woman, WOMAN, not puddle on the floor!_

He was _too _damned handsome, his golden hair standing almost straight up, a royal blue vest over his white shirt, accenting his ripe muscles perfectly. Ashe had to bite her lip to physically stop herself from letting a sigh of appreciation fall over her lips.

Alistair's eyes returned to her face and caught on what she was doing to her lip. His eyes darkened slightly and his whole body shifted forward. They stood there staring at each other for a few seconds before Alistair found his manners and cleared his throat.

"Lady Ashe, please come in." He held out his arm in invitation and Ashe smiled sweetly at him.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." She entered and almost jumped when Alistair shut the door behind them with a bang. Maker, her nerves were on edge. She had to play this right. Make him want more but avoid insulting him.

She stood in the middle of the room and watched him approach her. He stopped a few steps away from her.

"I wish I didn't have to leave so soon. I'd like nothing more than to spend more time in your delightful company, my dearest Ashe."

She was both relieved and a tiny bit disappointed that he didn't try anything with her.

"It won't be long before we see each other again. I seem to recall I promised to keep you company for your big birthday bash."

Alistair snorted. "I'd hardly call it that. Fereldans may not be as stuck up and weird as Orlesians but it will probably be boringly formal all the same. But I am so glad that you will be there to liven things up."

"Is it not your birthday? Are you not the King of Ferelden? I say you can celebrate however you want."

Alistair chuckled at that. "I wish, Ashe, but surely you know that it's not so simple. But I suppose... the celebrations will go on for days, maybe one night I can choose how we spend it. But it doesn't really matter as long as you're there."

Her heart pounded as he walked up to her and took her hand in his before he kissed it. She'd been kissed like this by what felt like hundreds of men during the past year but only when _he _did it did she feel excitement, exhilaration even. The slightest touch from him was making her... well, _hot._

"I'm glad I can be of service," she said, proud that her voice was steady.

"Oh, believe me." His voice was low and sent shivers through her. "You're doing me a service just by standing in my line of sight." He pulled her to him, still holding her hand.

_Notapuddle, notapuddle, notapuddle..._

"Alistair..." she started but he silenced her with a kiss. Heat rushed through her, _throbbed _in her as his lips met hers and when she felt his tongue seeking entry to her mouth, she knew she was defeated and she let him in all too willingly. She let out a small gasp when she felt his hand on the small of her back and he pressed her to him even harder while his other hand slid down to her ass. She finally mustered up enough willpower and broke away from his lips and rested her forehead against his, both of them slightly out of breath.

"Alistair..." she started again but he interrupted her with his words this time.

"Ashe, I know I might be a little forward here, but I'm not reading this the wrong way, am I? You certainly seemed interested yesterday when I was five seconds away from fucking you before we were interrupted..." He smiled wickedly and she couldn't help smiling back thinking about it. Maker, his finger inside her...

"Listen, Ashe, I don't have any grand expectations of you, nor am I in a hurry, so don't stress, alright? I just really, really like you and honestly, you intrigue me. Plus, I can't seem to keep my hands off you."

"Well, I can't blame you for that. My ass looks exceptional." She wriggled underneath his hands which were still resting against her backside and Alistair laughed.

"Not just your ass, although you're right, it _is _exceptional. As is the rest of you." His hands were everywhere on her now and they moved a few steps further into the room while resuming their kissing. They knocked over a small table and it only seemed to drive him on as he grunted and pushed her against the wall beside the bed and kissed her even harder. Ashe could feel how wet she was already, the throbbing between her legs driving her crazy. She couldn't stop a moan from forcing its way out and Alistair redoubled his assault on her upon hearing it.

How in the Fade was she going to stop this? She was burning for him, _wanted _him, couldn't resist. His broad form covering her, his decisiveness, his hunger for her, his handsome face, the magic he worked with his hands and mouth... He was everything she could want and more.

But so was Cullen, and she'd managed to - by some power she didn't know where it had come from – resist him this far too. Maker damn her to rot if she couldn't do the same with Alistair.

She pushed him off her.

_Be smooth._

She smiled at him, giving him her best sultry look. "It's not that I don't want you, Alistair. Maker, even if I tried to deny it, I think you've already noticed that my body tells you otherwise. But I'm not giving myself away so easily. You'll have to work harder than that."

For a second she thought she'd made him mad. He stared at her, breathing hard. But then he laughed and shook his head.

"Of course, I shouldn't have expected anything less than a challenge from you, my dearest Ashe." He kept the smile on his lips. "You musn't think that I don't want to spend time or effort on you, it's just so damned hard keeping my hands off you, you're too tempting. But I will prove to you that you're more than a King's passing fancy. I guess I will just have to be patient and wait for you to come to Denerim."

Ashe stepped away from the wall and made to walk towards the door but stopped at Alistair's side when she was about to pass him. "Patience is a proof of strenght and is greatly rewarded, by me of course." She ran her fingers down the lenght of his arm and his eyes followed her every move. "I'll see you off at the gates, Your Majesty." She smiled and blew a kiss over her shoulder as she walked up to the door and opened it, pleased with the way he stared after her. She closed the door behind her and began walking towards the war room for this morning's meeting.

_Phew, that was close. Too fucking close. Too delicious..._

* * *

_**Cullen**_

Cullen thought he would feel better after the King had departed, and he was of course glad to be rid of the man. But it was almost worse knowing that he had Ashe practically to himself for a dozen days and that she wouldn't let him fuck her. It wouldn't be such a problem if she didn't look so cursed tempting all the time, but she did. No matter if she was wearing a dress, pants and a shirt, a coat... Maker take him, she could we wearing a potato sack and she would still make him want to rip it off her and take her.

All he had left was her promise that she might indulge him with some stolen kisses or the like. He would do his utmost to break her will in those moments, if they ever came. The first few days after the King's departure were busy for her since she'd been forced to play host to the royal party, so she had a lot to catch up on. Cassandra and Josephine claimed a lot of her time, and he himself had no shortage of information and tasks for her either. They still had a job to do, all of them. He should actually already have travelled to Emprise du Lion on Inquisition business, but he'd postponed the trip so he'd get to see Ashe more before that.

Four days after Alistair had left was his lucky day. It was nightfall when he was returning to his office after a lengthy briefing with a few of his men in the courtyard. Ashe caught him just outside his door, pulling him with her into the dark corner between the stone wall and his tower.

"You've been a good boy, Commander. Very good, and patient. Almost too good. You haven't lost interest in me, have you?"

She looked so small and delicate trapped between him and the stone. Delicate and delicious.

"Never," he breathed. He curled his fingers around her arms and noticed that she was only wearing a thin shirt and some leggings. "Maker, Ashe, you'll freeze wearing this." It was a chilly evening to say the least.

"So warm me up then, Cullen."

He arched his eyebrows at her. "Didn't you want me to be patient?"

"Yes, and you're doing a good job, bla bla. But now I just want a little fun, and if I say that's alright then it is. Or maybe you don't want..."

He muffled her voice with his lips on her mouth and kissed her ferociously, taking her breath away. She moaned into him and he tightened his grip on her arms. Her words about how she liked it rough were burned into his mind and he would not treat her gently this time.

_Let's see her try to resist what she's already admitted will undo her._

He pushed her into the stone, melting his body against hers, grinding into her relentlessly. He bit her lip and kissed and nibbled his way down her jaw to her neck. "I should fuck you right here against the wall. If you would only say yes, I wouldn't even make it into my room with you. You drive me absolutely..." He shoved his hand down between her legs. "...crazy with want." She threw her head back and moaned loudly while he bit and licked the skin on her throat and kept talking. "I would rip all these fucking clothes off and lift you up. I want to feel your legs around me."

She surprised him by pushing herself against the wall and sort of obeying him. She kept her clothes on but she snaked her legs around his waist. The friction made him hiss between his teeth.

"Andraste, you make me so fucking hard. I want nothing more than to shove my cock into your tight cunt."

"Shit, Cullen, shut up or I'll give you what you want," Ashe panted, flustered and breathless, dragging herself against him harder and harder.

"If you think I'm going to be quiet when you say that, you're so fucking wrong. I can't hold it together much longer Ashe, I have to fuck you or I'll go insane. I would give anything..." He managed to squeeze his hand inside the tight lacing of her leggings and he felt her wetness coat his fingers. "_Fuck, _just let me taste you at least." All he got in response were her breathy moans, growing louder with each stroke against her dripping cunt.

"I'll make every guard in earshot hear you scream in pleasure." He quickened the pace of his fingers and her legs began to shake around him. Suddenly, he pulled his hand away and let go off her, leaving her a shaking mess sagging against the wall. He was sure as fuck not going to let her come when she tortured him like this.

Her eyes were wide and she looked at him sullenly. "But you said...!"

"Now, now Ashe, don't pout like a little girl, it's very unbecoming of you. I said I would make them all hear you scream in pleasure, but I didn't say when. Now you know what your merciless teasing feels like. I still enjoy it, mind you, but if I'm not getting you, you're not getting too much fun either. Think about that the next time you come and see me." He winked at her and then he slipped into his office without another word.

His little trick worked, and every day after that, Ashe came to see him. Sometimes they couldn't get away for more than a few minutes or even seconds, just time for them to kiss and possibly touch each other in ways that were wildly inappropriate.

Cullen grew more and more frustrated, and his mood was all the more foul since the date of Ashe's departure for Denerim grew closer and closer. He didn't want to stay in Skyhold like some puppy dog left behind when she left, so he decided it was time to take that trip to Emprise du Lion sooner rather than later. No one would question him going there since he was supposed to anyway. Maybe he'd even find a girl there who he could blow off some steam with. It wouldn't be the same as getting Ashe, of course, but better than nothing. If he didn't let some frustration out soon, he'd be completely unable to respect Ashe's request for patience and he would take her anyway. And that wouldn't be the best thing in the long run. Better to fuck some farm girl who he'd never see again and then he'd be able to play Ashe's game so much better.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

It irritated her a little that Cullen had left early. She wanted him to stay in Skyhold, to make him watch as she rode off to Denerim, to Alistair. She wanted to see what he would do. Part of her wanted to give into him so badly. Cullen made her want to...

_No, don't even think of it. _

She was so horny she was going to burst soon. Maybe this was all a bad fucking idea. Why not just do whatever the fuck she wanted? She sighed. She knew the answer to that. Because she wanted _more _than just a quick fuck. What that more was, she didn't know yet, only that she wanted it.

She was still on the battlements after having watched Cullen ride off with some of his soldiers. She leaned her elbows on the top of the stone, resting her chin in her hands while looking out over the mountains. She heard someone approach her from behind but didn't think much of it, soldiers and scouts walked up here all the time. She stiffened in surprise as she felt two strong arms grab her around the waist and spin her around.

Her captor was a tall man, messy black hair as black as a raven, an equally messy beard covering his face. His blue eyes were piercing. He was wearing armor and a long staff was strapped to his back, but Ashe barely noticed, she only had eyes for his face and the huge smile on his lips.

"Ashe Trevelyan, as I live and breathe. Long time no see."

She squealed in delight and threw her arms around his neck. "Greyer! What are you doing here?"

"Just passing by, couldn't resist seeing you of course," Hawke said. "Miss me?"

"Always, you idiot," she laughed and then she kissed him. Maker, he tasted just as good as she remembered. After the kiss, he leaned his head back to look at her, his arms still wrapped around her.

"I can tell," he said and grinned. "So, princess, what's new?"

"Oh, Greyer, too much to discuss here. Let's just say I'm so glad that you're not a blond, hazel-eyed warrior. I'd think I'd die of a heart attack if you were."

Hawke raised his eyebrows and his smile shot up at one side of his mouth in that gorgeous manner she couldn't resist. "You'll have to tell me all about it then. But where's your hospitality, Inquisitor? Aren't you going to offer refreshements to a weary traveller?"

"But of course, Ser Hawke. What did you have in mind?"

He pulled her close once again. "You."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary:**

Alistair has returned to Denerim in preparation of the festivities for his thirtieth birthday. Cullen escaped the frustration of seeing Ashe depart for the capital by leaving early for his mission in Emprise du Lion. Ashe was left in Skyhold, but she wasn't left alone for long. Greyer Hawke has his eyes on the prize – and the prize is Ashe. Preferably naked.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

They spun around and around in circles, his hands on her hips, squeezing her way too intimately for an ordinary friend. But Greyer Hawke was no ordinary man. He was gorgeous, fun, light-hearted and he made her _feel _good. And she couldn't help thinking about what an absolute beast he was in bed as they danced around the tables of the tavern to the roaring cheers of the patrons. The place was _packed, _the alcohol was flowing, people danced around them and on the tables, singing, laughing. Ashe had decided to throw an impromptu party for Hawke, and she had the time of her life. It was exactly what she needed. A break from Cullen and Alistair. Not that she didn't still want them both – but she needed this to unwind and avoid herself exploding in frustration.

And Greyer was, as always, the _perfect _distraction. When he'd told her earlier that he wanted her, she'd had to restrain herself from jumping him right there. She knew it would be better if she did what she did best: tease the fuck out of him. She knew exactly what that would do to him, and what that would make him do to her later. She wanted it all tonight. Hard, relentless, mad fucking with a man who could be so commanding in the bedroom that it made her wet just thinking about it.

Ashe laughed to herself as she thought about what the Chantry thought about girls like her. Perverted little temptresses. She found it beyond funny that they now all hailed her as the Herald of Andraste. But she knew that there was nothing wrong with her. She just knew how to wield her power, and if men fell for it, that was their weakness, not hers. She would _never _feel inferior to a man or let anyone make her feel ashamed for what was a healthy desire.

That said... She needed another drink. Impending sex with Greyer Hawke made even her nervous. And judging by the way his eyes burned into her at this very moment, the word 'sex' was not enough to describe what was to come.

She shuddered with want and pressed her body closer to his and he turned her around as they danced, her ass pressing against his groin, his large, tanned hands gliding down her sides, dragging deliciouslyover her stomach until they settled on her hip bones. She swayed against him to the strange beat of the music. They had drummers playing tonight and Ashe could swear that the heavy but rythmic sounds made everyone wilder, sweatier, hornier.

Maker, she could feel his hardness pressing into her from behind. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto his shoulder. She was grateful for the loud music and the constant talking and singing from the crowd as it drowned out the moan she let out when she felt his wet lips on her neck. Her arms flew back and she grabbed hold of him, desperate to touch him somehow. She felt his mouth right against her ear next.

"Wanna get out of here, princess?"

Hawke turned her around again and let his hands slide down to grip her backside, totally shameless. He smiled that impossibly gorgeous smile and looked her in the eyes. "I want to _wreck _you."

Ashe swallowed hard and returned his smile.

_Thank you, Maker, thank you!_

"Yes, please," she said, her voice ridiculously sweet.

Hawke snickered at that. "Good girl." He grabbed her hand and before Ashe knew it, they were outside and he simply grabbed her and guided her to jump up and put her legs around his waist. He kissed her neck and laughed but kept on walking as if he were carrying a little girl and not a grown warrior woman. Funnily enough, Ashe didn't mind. Greyer was the only one she liked feeling young and maybe not so adult with. Probably because she knew that he didn't judge her in any way whatsoever. She was just Ashe to him, regardless.

He carried her through the deserted throne room and took the steps up to her room two at a time.

_Andraste, he's so strong..._

She couldn't wait for him to focus all his attention and strenght on her. She kissed him and writhed against his crotch, drawing out a low, throaty moan from him. He finally stopped walking and threw her down on the bed.

"You up for a little adventure tonight, princess? I'm warning you, teasing me all day and making me wait this long has really riled me up, you know." Hawke's eyes wandered all over her body as he spoke and Ashe could barely keep herself from reaching up and dragging him down to her. All that wine had made her even wilder than usual. But she stayed where she was. If he'd placed her there, he wanted her to stay put until he said otherwise.

"You want the short answer, Greyer? Fuck yes." She grinned and he smiled in response.

"Good. I like it when you obey me, princess."

Ashe shook her head. "I'm no princess, Ser."

Hawke positioned himself at the edge of the bed and trailed his fingers slowly over Ashe's foot and up her leg, making her shiver. His eyes glinted at her words. "No? What are you, then?"

"I'm just a stupid little whore." Her voice was low and she stared at him, chin up defiantly, despite her words. Hawke smiled again, a dangerous edge to his expression this time. Maker, she could see what mood he was in, and she craved it with all her soul right this moment.

He crawled over her and his broad frame shadowed her. He grabbed her wrists and shoved them up above her head against the sheets of the bed. "And how do whores deserve to be treated?" he asked. His face was so close to hers now and Maker, she wanted him to ravage every inch of her.

"Harshly," she whispered and then she raised herself up slightly, forcing contact between their bodies. He answered by releasing one of her wrists and he gripped her chin, hard, before he raised his hand and slapped her across the cheek. She gasped and she was instantly ablaze with consuming desire, coming from somewhere deep within her. She wanted _more_. "You're going to have to teach me to behave, Ser. I told you I'm stupid."

"I can tell," he hissed at her and then he ripped her shirt apart. "Don't worry, I'll fuck some sense into you." Her breasts sprang free as he tore off her breast band and he bit down on one of her nipples, making her moan in pleasure mixed with sweet pain as his tongue circled around it when he alternated between licking and biting her. He brought his hand down and eased it into the lining of her leggings, reaching slowly all the way down to her center.

"So wet already? Filhty, little slut," he breathed against her ear before he licked it, while he dragged his fingers across her folds and up to her swollen clit, drawing out mewling sounds from her throat. Suddenly, he withdrew his hand and she was just about to protest when he shoved two of his fingers, still coated with her slick juices, into her mouth. "You made that mess, you little whore, now you clean it up."

She obeyed, making a show of licking his fingers and moaning at the same time. Tasting herself on him made her throb even harder with lust. He stared at her and when he deemed her finished, he pulled her leggings off, leaving her completely naked underneath him. He spread her legs wide before him. "Touch yourself."

She did what he asked and lowered her hand to her cunt, pressing two fingers against herself. She bit her lower lip and breathed hard, never breaking eye contact with him. He watched her intently as he freed himself of his own clothes.

"Maker's breath," she whispered. He was a sight to behold. Tall, muscular, tanned. He was a mage, not a warrior, but he was sure built like one. She admired the scars that adorned him in a dozen places on his chest and his legs. After that, her eyes fixated on what was really waiting for her: his cock, hard and clearly excited by her.

"Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?" he said, his voice one beat away from being a growl.

She looked down on herself. She hadn't even noticed that she'd stopped moving, his body was too distracting. Before she had a chance to resume what she'd been doing, he grabbed her feet and yanked her to him at the end of the bed where he was standing. He lowered his head like he was going to lick her, but she knew he wouldn't do that, not now at least. Instead, he spit on her cunt and slapped it lightly with his hand.

_Fade, he's so good..._

His actions made her even wetter. She would come sooner rather than later if he kept spanking her like that.

"Do you want to please me, Ashe?"

She nodded eagerly and he slapped her again, and she bit her lip hard to stop a moan from coming out.

"Take care of me," he commanded and she scrambled to reach for him as quickly as possible, getting on her knees at the edge of the bed. Maybe it was the wine filling her but she was so _hungry _for him.

She spit in her hand and wrapped it around his cock. He hummed his approval and she started moving it slowly up and down. She bent over and licked the head of his cock, once, twice, lapping at him like a hungry cat before she finally opened her mouth and took as much of him as she could. He released a loud groan and put his hand on the back of her head, urging her on. Her head bobbed up and down as she sucked on his hard, delicious cock. He pushed her head down and forced her to take him as deep as possible. She held him down her throat for an impressive amount of time before she gagged, and when he let her up for air, she breathed and then immediately shoved him down her throat again. She wanted to feel fucking raw when this was over.

"That's it, that's a good little girl. Such a good whore..." His eyes were half-closed and his head leaned back as he murmured his encouragement to her.

"Mhmm..." She wanted him to keep talking, it was one of her favourite parts about fucking him.

"If you keep being so good, maybe I'll fuck you when I'm done fucking your mouth. And if you misbehave, I'm going to fuck your ass so hard you won't be able to walk for a week."

Ashe moaned and stopped what she was doing. She let go of his cock, now dripping with her saliva, and leaned back on her heels. She put her index finger into her mouth like a child and widened her eyes at him.

"Why, Ser, now you make me so confused... The reward for behaving is just as good as the punishment for not obeying you. How is a girl supposed to choose?"

Hawke narrowed his eyes at her but she could see he was fighting the urge to throw their little game aside and just fuck the living daylights out of her in any way he could. He may have been calling the shots but she was still the one with the real power.

"And what would you say misbehaving consists of, Ser? Maybe if I touch my wet, little pussy without your permission?" Ashe licked her fingers and then reached down and plunged them into herself, never letting her eyes drift from his.

"You disobedient little bitch," he said and threw himself on top of her. He grabbed her hand and ripped it away from what she was doing and without warning, he shoved his cock into her.

"Ahhhh, fuck! Greyer! Mhmm, please..."

"Stop your whining, whore," he hissed and slammed into her again. It was so fucking mind blowingly good. His hand snaked up and around her throat, choking her while he fucked her. Maker, he was like an animal, wild and raw and hard. He groaned as he watched her eyes roll back into her head and she bucked against him like crazy. The effect his choking had on her didn't pass by him unnoticed.

"You like it when I hurt you? Such a dirty, perverted little girl. Are you, Ashe?"

"Yes, fuck yes! I'm yours, Greyer, I'll do anything you want, just don't stop fucking me!"

"Maybe I should stop... Arrghh..." He never slowed down, the whole bed was shaking by now. "You don't deserved to be fucked like this, do you?"

"No, I'm such a filthy little slut, but you promised... If I behaved you would fuck me, if I didn't, you still would... _Maker_, that feels so good."

"You should be thanking me, not the Maker. And I _am _a man of my word. Turn around."

He withdrew from her, leaving her feeling empty, but she was too excited about what was about to come to care about that. She turned around and lay on her stomach and he pulled her closer. She could feel how he dragged his tongue all the way from her cunt back to her ass.

"Do you want me to rip you apart, little girl?" He sounded so commanding and sexy, she almost came just from hearing him speak like that to her. She nodded and he chuckled. "So eager. Such a good slut." She let out a loud moan in response since he'd pushed a finger into her asshole while he spoke. She heard and felt him spit on her to warm her up and she gasped when she felt the head of his cock against the entrance to her ass. He leaned over her back and she felt his hot breath on her ear. "You've been begging for this all night. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, because once I start fucking your ass, I won't stop until I fill you with my seed, no matter how much you plead and beg. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Andraste, _yes!_ Please, _please _Greyer, fuck me!"

He grunted in response and he pushed himself into her ass, little by little.

"Fuck, you're so fucking big!" she almost screamed. The pain of accommodating him was intense, but so was the pleasure. Her eyes rolled back into her head and the noises he made as he managed to squeeze himself into her completely were unravelling her. She would come, she would fucking come just from him fucking her ass. It was all she could do to remember how to breathe as he pulled himself almost all the way out before thrusting into her again.

"Fade, so tight, your little asshole is so fucking good... You're such a willing whore, taking me like this, begging me for it..." His rythm increased and her loud moaning seemed to urge him on. "You like that, don't you? Huh?" He grabbed her hair with one hand and yanked her head back while holding her down with his other hand on the small of her back.

_Yesyesyesfuckyes..._

She couldn't form any words, she just moaned louder in response and bucked her ass up to meet him, to show him her approval, to urge him on.

"Maker above, you're the naughtiest girl I've ever met... No one has ever felt this fucking good before... You may be a nasty, little whore but you're the princess of whores, ahhh... That's it princess, meet my cock, _fuck_..."

Ashe could feel her legs start to shake, she was so close now.

"Don't ever stop, Greyer, fuck, I'm going to... You're going to make me come, don't stop!"

She screamed and shook as she came undone and he moaned even harder as all her muscles clenched and cramped around him. With a loud, husky growl, he thursted into her a few, final times as he filled her up with his seed, letting the hot stickiness trickle out of her when he pulled himself out.

They both crashed down to the bed, panting, out of breath. He laughed and pulled her sweaty, messy body up to him and put his arm around her, letting her rest her head against his neck. He kissed her forehead and she felt a surge of warmth flow through him at his display of affection.

"You were... beyond amazing. I didn't hurt you, did I, princess?"

She looked up at him and met his crooked smile with one of her own. "No, you were fucking perfect. I know you'd never hurt me. I'd take you out if you tried, dumbass."

Hawke laughed so hard that he lost his grip around her shoulder. "We'll see about that one, princess," he said and then he proceeded to attack her with the worst and best thing Ashe would never admit that she liked. Tickles. An all out war erupted between them and their laughter echoed between the stone walls.

When they exhausted themselves and settled down again, Hawke once again pulled her close to him. "So tell me all about your boy troubles. Maybe it's easier to talk about now that you've had a real man satisfy you."

Ashe snorted and hit him playfully on the shoulder. "You're so full of yourself. But fine, _Daddy _Hawke, I'll tell you all about it..."

* * *

_**Cullen**_

He moaned as he emptied himself into the mouth of the girl who were on her knees before him. He watched half-heartedly as she licked it all up, swallowed it and smiled. He leaned back on the bed and she gathered her clothes and got dressed quickly. "Come find me anytime you want, Commander," she said and winked at him before she left and shut the door behind her. Cullen sighed as he gazed into the sparkling fire in the fireplace opposite the bed.

Cold-ass fucking Emprise du Lion. He hated this place. And that woman was the fourth red-head he'd fucked in the five days he'd been here. There was just one problem. None of them were the right red-head. None of them were Ashe Trevelyan.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Cullen**_

He couldn't stop thinking about Ashe. Not for a single second during his waking time, nor in his dreams when he slept. A myriad of thoughts ran through his head constantly. Why had he waited so long before showing interest in her? At first, he'd not actually even _been _interested in her. That weird girl with the mark on her hand. He hadn't understood anything about her at first. So young, but strong, confident. Maybe not always in combat, she'd been untested and inexperienced in the beginning, but to his great surprise, she learned and kept up with the Inquisition's strongest warriors exceptionally fast. That was when she really sparked his interest for the first time. And boy, did she know how to talk to people, especially men. Like she was a worldly woman well-versed in different cultures and behaviours instead of a teenaged Marcher-girl.

She had started to intrigue him and from there on, he was done for. He watched her. She fascinated him. The more he saw, the more he wanted. Maker, how he wanted her now.

He'd always assumed there would be plenty of time for him to seduce her, she was so young after all. He should have known better, and he cursed himself for it now. She was such an wild soul, and her appeal was not invisible to other men, quite the contrary. But she'd never shown interest in any of them, nothing serious anyway.

Until Alistair showed up.

Cullen gritted his teeth and slashed his sword into the man in front of him, frustration driving him to be more violent than perhaps was nessecary. He was still in Emrpise du Lion on Inquisiton business, and when he'd heard that there was a group of bandits terrorizing the village of Sahrnia, he'd jumped at the chance to get in on the action, even though his men were more than capable to handle it on their own. It felt good to ventilate his anger on these low-lives. Fucking girls who looked like Ashe sure as fade hadn't helped, that had been a stupid idea. If anything, he felt even more frustrated after each time. He felt wierdly disgusted with them afterwards, because they didn't sound like her, or do things that she would have done, and they said things that she would never say. Not their fault, but still – a pointless way for him to pass the time.

And time went by too fast. Only a week left now until Alistair's birthday celebrations in the capital. With Ashe as his guest of honor. He spat on the ground in front of him as he cleaned his blade from blood while his men hauled away the bodies of the bandits around him.

She _had _promised him that she would come back to him after she'd been to Denerim, and fulfill all her promises to be with him. But there was no way of knowing if she still wanted that after Alistair had her to himself in his own domain. There was no doubt in Cullen's mind that the King would do everything in his power to steal Ashe from him, for whatever reasons he saw fit.

There was no way he could let that happen, no way he was just going to sit back and have no clue about what was going on in Denerim. Cullen was a man of action and _not _someone who left his hopes and dreams to fate. Fate couldn't ever be trusted.

Andraste, he really hated Alistair. He was an opportunist bastard, literally. He hadn't deserved anything he'd gotten and he sure as fuck did _not _deserve Ashe.

An idea began to form in Cullen's mind and he even smiled as he stepped over the last corpse to make his way back to camp. His business here was concluded anyway, and if this plan was going to work, he had to leave as soon as possible.

* * *

_**Alistair**_

The day was finally here. He'd thought about it non-stop since he left Skyhold. This was the day before his birthday, which he really couldn't care less about if it weren't for the fact that Inquisitor Ashe Trevelyan would be arriving today, in time for the three day long celebration that would begin tonight. His advisors were pleased that he'd managed to get the Inquisitor to attend and everything had been prepared in great detail. Lavish guest quarters for her to stay in, a grand, public fanfare welcome into the city with Alistair there to greet her. And of course, the parties that would take place each evening. Something he normally dreaded but now found exciting.

He'd told no one, not even Eamon, of his more personal interest in Ashe. But he was sure the old man would fall over in excitement if he knew that Alistair wanted her as his queen.

He stood now at the gates to the palace, his honor guard surrounding him and a sea of cheery people gathered outside to watch the spectacle of the Inquisitor herself arriving in the Fereldan capital for the first time. He actually felt a little nervous, something he'd barely ever felt in the last ten years. The Blight and becoming king had hardened him. He was not the young, babbling boy he once was. But he was betting a lot on this, on Ashe. It was important to him that this was perfect, that she enjoyed her visit and his company. He'd never felt nervous about something like this before, Maker, he'd never even been bothered with or cared about _anyone _since he became king. Not the countless girls he'd taken to bed, or the conniving bitches who made up Ferelden's noble women. There had someone he'd cared about before, perhaps, but that was a long time ago and he didn't ever want to think about that.

He couldn't stop a wide smile from spreading across his face when he saw the Inquisiton banners flutter in the wind in the distance. A company of people on horseback drew nearer and he could finally see her.

_Maker's breath._

She looked spectacular. Her hair, the deep color of blood, surrounded her, loose curls twirling down around her head. She was dressed in all black, tightly fitted leather traveling gear, boots laced up all the way to her thighs. Alistair could practiaclly feel his mouth water at the sight, and not just from her sexy appearence. She oozed confindence and poise, not like an ordinary noble who thought she was better than everyone else. No, Ashe simply _was _amazing, so there was nothing fake about it.

She halted her horse in front of him and got off effortlessly. She dusted her hands against her legs and removed her gloves, smiling at him as she met his eyes. He didn't waste any time and stepped in front of her immediately.

"Welcome to Denerim, My Lady Inquisitor. I hope the journey went well?"

Ashe let out a delightful little laugh and damn him if it didn't make him want to just grab her hand and run away with her to some place where hundreds of people weren't watching them. Oh, what he would do to this woman later, alone with her...

"Your Majesty." She inclined her head. She was probably the only woman in the country who didn't have to bow to him. "Of course things went well. If there's one thing I'm used to, and quite good at by now if I do say so myself, it's long and tedious rides on the back of a horse." She winked at him and he chuckled while taking her hand and kissing it, inhaling her sweet scent as he did so. Not even days on the road could take away the smell of honey she always had around her.

_So delicious._

He saw someone else dismount behind her. A tall man with messy black hair and a black beard and a red streak across the bridge of his nose.

_New bodyguard?_

Ashe turned to see what he was looking at and smiled when her eyes met the other man. Alistair didn't like that smile one bit but he said nothing.

"Alistair, I hope you don't mind that I've brought a friend. He came to visit me in Skyhold and I thought it would be beneficial for you to have him here as a guest as well. Powerful friends will make people think twice before messing with you." She smiled again, so warm and irresistable that he felt some of that suspicion and jealousy fade quickly. The black haired man approached them and bowed in front of Alistair.

"Your Majesty, let me introduce you to the Champion of Kirkwall, Greyer Hawke."

Alistair heard Eamon almost gasp beside him and the old man looked like a kid on Satinalia. Alistair shook Hawke's hand. "Wow, Miss Trevelyan wasn't kidding when she mentioned powerful friends. Ser Hawke, you're most welcome here in Denerim. We'll see to it that you'll be installed in the palace and we'll put you on the guest list for the celebrations, of course..."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty, but I actually have other business I need to attend to while I'm here. I'm a simple man, I'll stay at an inn if it's all the same to you. It's going to save me some time. But I would be honored to attend the festivities, of course."

Alistair felt relieved that this man wouldn't be following Ashe around everywhere. He couldn't even say why, but he felt immediately threatened by the man. He didn't like the way Ashe looked at him. Plus, this meant he would have her to himself during the days, just like he'd planned.

The exchanged a few more pleasantries before Hawke went off into the city and Ashe was shown to her quarters so she could freshen up and unpack.

Later that evening, Alistair sat in his throne in the grand hall of the palace. He was clad in the royal blue colors he preferred, a blue vest around a black shirt and deep blue trousers and black boots. His golden crown adorned his head as usual at these events. People mingled and musicians were playing merry music in the middle of the hall. Tables as long as half the room were lined up against the walls, filled with all sorts of food, and servants were milling about with trays of sparkling wine. It was... boring. Until Ashe showed up, of course.

She looked stunning, as always, in a green, flowing dress that hugged her curves almost painfully tight for Alistair's eyes. He asked her to dance and she said yes, and they twirled around, laughing and making small talk while his hand slipped almost scandalously low on her back. Hawke was there as well, but Alistair didn't worry too much about him. He was entertaining a whole group of women who'd gathered around the Champion and he was telling some story to them and smiling and laughing, charming every last lady who stood there swooning, listening intently to every word he said. And Ashe didn't seem to care of even notice. All her attention was on him. This night was exactly what he'd hoped for.

Until the announcer shouted out that there was another arrival and the whole room fell quiet and stared at the two people entering the room. But no one stared harder than Alistair, who couldn't believe his eyes. He felt Ashe stiffen in his arms as she saw the new pair as well.

"Commander Cullen Rutherford of the Inquisiton, leader of Her Worship Ashe Trevelyan's army. And Lady Mahariel, Hero of Ferelden!"


	9. Chapter 9

_**Ashe**_

One: What in the Fade was Cullen doing here? And two: Why in Thedas did he have the actual freaking Hero of Ferelden on his arm?

Ashe didn't know what to make of it when the couple walked further into the hall, towards her and the King. She glanced at Alistair, who looked as tense as if someone had just told him that Orlais had declared war on Ferelden. Could Cullen have been right when he'd told her that there was bad blood between the King and the Hero?

She didn't have time to think more on the subject when Cullen and the Hero stopped right in front of her and Alistair. The other woman looked straight at Ashe, ignoring Alistair entirely.

"Inquisitor, I've heard so much about you. I must admit, part of the reason I decided to come here tonight was to seize the opportunity to meet you."

Mahariel extended her hand to Ashe, and Ashe took it in her own, letting her eyes sweep over Mahariel's face while she shook her hand.

The woman had the fullest pair of lips she'd ever seen; round with a pink sheen that made you want to touch them just to see if they were as soft as they looked. Her cheekbones were exquisitely carved out and almost glowing, the cheek underneath tinged with pink. You could see just a hint of her delicate, pointed ears underneath her mane of golden hair, cascading down her shoulders. Simply put, Mahariel was one of the most beautiful people Ashe had ever seen. And she had her arm wrapped around Cullen's. And one look at Alistair told her that the King didn't much approve of the touching either.

_Shit._

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind, for the time being, and put on her official Inquisitor face, all professional.

"Lady Mahariel, it's an honor to meet you. Forgive me if I seem a bit dumb-struck, I had no idea that you would be joining us, and with _my _Commander, no less." She hadn't tried to sound possessive when mentioning Cullen, but judging by the subtly raised eyebrows on Mahariel's face, her comment hadn't gone by unnoticed.

"Oh, really? Alistair invited me." Mahariel's gaze turned to the King, who still stood frozen beside Ashe.

_He invited her?_

"Well, yes, I..." he began, stuttering and searching for words in a way Ashe had never heard him do before. He was always so sure of himself around her. But with Mahariel present, it seemed... But then he took a deep breath, and Ashe could see how he steeled himself and put on his Kingly manners, much like she had done a moment ago. "You are always invited to these things, Lady Mahariel, you are the Hero of Ferelden. But you never show up, so naturally I hadn't informed the Inquisitor that such an unlikely occurance might take place. But you are very welcome, of course, and so is the Commander."

Ashe was impressed with Alistair. This was clearly hard for him but he was gracious all the same. Her eyes shifted to Cullen and found him quickly looking away from her. She saw the way he stroked the hand Mahariel had placed on his other arm as soon as she looked at them.

_Oh, I see what's going on._

Cullen must have brought Mahariel here because he knew it would, at the very least, unnerve Alistair and maybe take his focus off Ashe. And two birds in one stone, he tried to make her jealous by acting as if there might be something going on between the two of them. Ashe felt the anger rise up inside her. Not only was it rude to try to ruin Alistair's birthday celebrations, but she'd _told _Cullen that she would come back to be with him if he let her go here without a fuss. But he wanted to meddle, to make her jealous. What made her angriest of all was that it might be working. Alistair was clearly thrown off his game, and _was _there something going on between Cullen and the ridiculously beautiful Mahariel? She knew that Cullen might just want to make her jealous but why did Mahariel let him touch her that way if she didn't want him to? She didn't exactly look like she pined over the King, no, her expression when she looked at him was quite frosty.

Well, if he wanted to play, so could she. She was the fucking queen of playing these games.

"No, Alistair didn't say anything about you, Lady Mahariel, but what a pleasant surprise!" Ashe's neglect to use his title was very concious. "I've always wanted to meet you, ever since I was a little girl. I might not be from Ferelden but all of Thedas knows how you saved us all from the Blight. I would have asked Alistair to tell me all about your adventures, of course, but we've had such a fun time together, it's slipped my mind, I'm ashamed to say. I was delighted when he asked me here to be his guest of honor, and I'm even more delighted now that you're here! You must agree to meet with me in private to tell me all about your adventures, and maybe we can discuss some more current affairs as well, regarding the Inquisiton and all that. Maybe lunch tomorrow?"

Mahariel nodded, her expression impossible to read. "Of course, Inquisitor. It would be my pleasure."

"Oh, if it's alright with you, Alistair? I know you had plans for us tomorrow but maybe you can survive without me for an hour or two?" She smiled and let her hand stroke his arm, slowly back and forth. That seemed to snap him out of his lingering shock and he smiled back and squeezed her hand.

"Of course, Lady Ashe. But only for an hour or two, yes?" He winked at her and Ashe could see in the corner of her eye how Mahariel's eyebrows raised once again, and Cullen's eyes were narrowed, to say the least.

The Commander cleared his throat. "Your Majesty, I believe it's been a long time since you've spoken to Lady Mahariel so why don't the Inquisitor and I leave the two of you to catch up for a few minutes. We'll go grab something to eat in the meantime."

Alistair nodded. "Of course, where are my manners?"

Ashe didn't have time to protest before Cullen whisked her away to a table at the other side of the hall. She looked back over her shoulder to see Mahariel and Alistair speaking to each other, both their postures stiff.

_Good, keep it that way._

She had zero interest in Alistair rekindling something with that woman. She'd learned quickly in her past that the only thing that could disrupt a woman's power over a man was another woman. And Alistair was _hers. _Well, maybe not yet, but he was an option, _her _option, not the Hero of Ferelden's.

"Didn't the two of you look cozy when we arrived. Dancing with him like you're his queen already."

Ashe's head snapped towards Cullen. He had his back against the wall where he was leaning casually against it.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you here?" she hissed.

"I'm escorting Lady Mahariel. We're old friends." He looked unfazed by her anger and that pissed her off even more.

"How come you've never told me that, hm? That you're _friends _with the fucking Hero of Ferelden? How do you know her? She's not a mage."

Cullen chuckled. "I'm only allowed to know Templars and mages? It's a long story, and it's never come up."

"Don't take me for a fool, Cullen. This is no coincidence."

Cullen stepped closer to her, hovering over her. "I admit, I wasn't exactly opposed to coming here to see you." His voice lowered. "But it's only because I missed you. I missed looking at your beautiful face, I missed touching you..." Ashe gasped when his hand travelled down from the hollow of her throat, grazing over one of her breasts before he moved on and let it settle on her stomach, just above her...

"Maker's breath, Cullen, stop it!"

_Don't stop..._

He chuckled again, the low, throaty sound making Ashe's knees weak. "No one can see us, your exquisite body is shielding us from anyone's view." He took her hand and lowered his head so that no one could see when he caught one of her fingers between his teeth before he sucked on it, humming in appreciation while doing it. Ashe stared at him, angry but trembling with want. She felt a bead of sweat run down from her forehead, all the way down her face before it dropped down and landed between her breasts, inching its way further down, tickling her, teasing her.

_Maker, when did it get so hot in here?_

Cullen's gaze followed the bead and he licked his lips while his eyes roamed over her cleavage. His eyes were dark with hunger. He pulled her closer and put his lips next to her ear while his other hand cupped her aching breast and he stroked his thumb over her hard nipple. "Tell me you want me to stop."

She couldn't say anything, she was just fighting to keep her breathing under control. His hand moved and before she had time to miss his touch, he pressed it between her legs.

"Andraste, _no_, Cullen, not here!" He laughed quietly again and she turned around, ready to stalk away when he grabbed her and pulled her back, her back against his chest. She looked around with worry, but Alistair was still talking to Mahariel at the other side of the hall, and the rest of the guests were busy drinking and talking to notice her and Cullen.

Cullen's hands were gripping her waist firmly, and she could feel the hardness of him pressing into her lower back. He darted his tongue out and licked the top of her ear, and she could barely supress the moan that wanted to tear itself out of her throat.

"Ashe... You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now," he whispered in her ear.

It was all she could do to whimper and shake herself off of him before she walked away, feet unsteady, to find the nearest washing room and put her head in some very cold water.


	10. Chapter 10:Tension

_**Cullen**_

He watched Ashe walk away, her legs a bit wobbly, her stride not as straight as usual. He smiled to himself, knowing the effect he'd had on her. She could talk and play all she wanted, at the end of the day all it took for him to almost bring her to her knees were a few touches and whispered words in her ear.

When she disappeared into a doorway, Cullen's gaze swept over the room. Alistair was no longer speaking to Mahariel. He frowned as he watched as the King was chatting to some noble while Mahariel stood some distance away, plucking at the food of the table in front of her. This wasn't good. He needed Alistair to focus on Mahariel, not Ashe.

He walked up the woman in question and put his hand on her shoulder.

"That was a short reunion, huh?" he said. Mahariel looked up and put another grape in her mouth and chewed it while watching Cullen's face. He had to admit, it unnerved him a little when she did that. Her expression was difficult to read.

"I told you already, Cullen, I only came here as a favor to you. I have no interest in speaking with Alistair in matters other than the Grey Wardens."

"Don't you see the way he looks at you?"

"No." Her expression turned unexpectedly amused. "But I do see how he looks at the Inquisitor, and don't think I don't see the same in you. You're both love-struck little pups. Or maybe just horny, old men who desires someone so young just because she is beautiful and powerful. Which one is it, Cullen?"

He didn't really know how he'd imagined that he could conceal anything from Mahariel. He knew how good she was at reading people and situations, she wouldn't be who she was otherwise.

"Come now, my dear," he said. "If that was all, I would desire you just the same. Your beauty and your power are forces to be reckoned with."

"Are you saying I'm not as desirable as her?" She looked hard at him.

_Fuck._

"Don't be silly, I..." He trailed off when she took a sip of wine from her cup and a drop escaped from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted out and licked it up and he could swear her eyes shifted color, darkened. He shook his head, clearly imagining things. But there was no denying that she looked absolutely stunning. A little too stunning, maybe.

She cocked her head to the side as he stared at her mouth. "Oh, dear, Commander... You're not thinking of me in any..." she leaned forward and lowered her voice, "_sexual _way just now, are you? Why, only moments ago you were dead set on your little Inquisitor!"

Cullen snickered at her and she smiled a warm, disarming smile. He'd forgotten how utterly charming she could be when she chose to be.

"You can hardly blame me, Mahri. You're fucking drop dead gorgeous." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she burst out laughing. He could see from the corner of his vision how Alistair's head snapped their way. Not that he'd even had him in mind just now, but it was a bonus.

"Such a smooth-talker, Commander."

Cullen extended his hand to her.

"Give me this dance, love?"

Mahariel rolled her eyes but took his hand and laughed as he swept her out on the dancefloor in a dramatic manner.

He twirled her around and they had a fun few minutes, until they bumped into someone in one of their turns.

"Whow, hey now..." said the man they'd bumbed into. He turned around, away from the throng of ladies who stood before him, and Cullen groaned when he saw who it was.

"Greyer Hawke. Fancy meeting you here," Cullen said, not sounding the least bit pleased to see him. He'd never liked the way Hawke looked at Ashe. Of-fucking-course he was here, too.

"Commander Cullen." Hawke on the other hand looked amused. "I was surprised to see when you arrived. Ashe didn't tell me anything about your invitation to this party."

Cullen narrowed his eyes at the man. How much time had Hawke spent with Ashe during his absence?

"Yes, it was all a last minute thing, escorting Lady Mahariel here. Mahri, you've met Hawke before, I believe?"

She nodded, looking equally as amused as Hawke. "Sure, nice to see you again, Greyer." She smiled and bowed her head slightly in greeting.

Another voice joined them from behind. "'Mahri'? Really, Mahariel, you let him call you that? I remember you tried to bite my head of when I tried to give you a nickname during the Blight," Alistair said.

They all turned around and faced the King.

Mahariel cocked her head to the side, regarding Alistair with the most neutral of expressions, while her coming words dripped of venom. Cullen couldn't help being impressed.

"Maybe I would have let you call me something cute if you weren't busy fucking half your coming court."

Alistair snarled. "And you would let this one," he indicated his head towards Cullen, his face full of contempt, "do whatever he wants to you, use you however he wants?"

Hawke clearly had trouble keeping himself from grinning. "Well, this is is awkward if anything, hmm?" he mumbled.

Cullen gritted his teeth. He leaned closer to Alistair. "You don't deserve either of them."

Alistair balled his hands into tight fists while he leaned in just as close, his face only inches away from Cullen's own. "I'll fucking kill you for touching either of them."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Hawke**_

Why Ashe desired either one of the two idiots before him was a mystery. Or maybe that was the thing, that they fought over her. And now Mahariel, too, it seemed.

_What a fucking mess. But an entertaining one..._

As much as Hawke wanted to stay and watch the scene unfolding in front of him, he was slightly worried when his eyes swept across the room and he couldn't find Ashe anywhere in sight. She loved being the center of attention, so where in the Fade could she be now, missing this?

He leaned closer to Mahariel, who watched amused as Alistair and Cullen growled at each other.

"My Lady, I think I need to go and fetch our dear Inquisitor. Will you, how shall I put it, keep these two boneheads from killing each other in the meantime?"

Mahariel's eyes turned to Hawke. "Aw, but that will ruin all the fun... But since you asked so politely, Greyer." She smiled and winked at him. Maker take him, this woman was fascinating. Stone cold one second while she calmly insulted the King, and warm and charming the next. The most dangerous kind of woman. And absolutely irresistable to a man like himself. She was like an exotic mixture of Isabela, Ashe and a queen. He laughed inwardly when he walked away, knowing that Ashe would probably bite his head off if she knew that he wouldn't exactly say no to fucking the Hero of Ferelden.

He neared one of the exits from the hall and glanced back over his shoulder. Mahariel was standing between the two men now, facing Cullen, saying something too low for him to hear. They were all so close together. Hawke chuckled to himself. They looked like some kind of human sandwich, with Mahariel as the filling and Cullen and the King as two very angry pieces of bread. A sandwich with some spicy elf in the middle.

Well, damn, now he was hungry. He'd had his hands full entertaining all the ladies, thinking about which one or which _ones _he would bed that night, that he'd forgotten to eat. His stomach rumbled as he walked in the empty corridors of the castle, but there was no sign of Ashe, only the occasional guard.

Finally, he heard voices. He slowed down and carefully rounded the corner in one of the corridors, not wanting to disturb if it wasn't Ashe. But there she was, backed up against the wall with some nobleman pushing her against it, his hand on her stomach. One look at her face and Hawke knew that this wasn't voluntary on her part. The look on her face also told him that shit was about to break loose. He leaned against the wall and watched, almost wishing he had something to nibble on as this impending entertainment started. If it were any other woman, he would have rushed forward to help, but knowing Ashe, that would only make her wildly offended.

"I said, take your fucking hand off me." Her voice was deadly calm.

"No, you're coming with me, missy. Greta has worked hard for years getting closer to His Majesty, and you're not going to ruin it all now!"

Ashe's eyes flickered over to Hawke. She blinked a few times, then quickly mouthed 'watch' to him before angling her face up towards the man hovering over her again.

"Fine, fine, I don't want any trouble." Her voice had shifted from menacing to light and innocent. "Please, Ser, I don't like being restrained. If I do you a favor, will you be satisfied just holding on to me without tying my hands while we get out of here?"

"What, uhm... what kind of favor do you mean?" The man sounded less sure of himself.

_Oh, pretty, devious little Ashe._

She moved her free hand up to the shoulder strap of her dress and let it fall to the side, almost revealing one of her breasts. The man stared at her cleavage and she put her finger between her lips like a little girl.

"You know, I may only be nineteen, but I can suck a cock like a real whore." She started sucking on her finger and the man stared at what she was doing, speechless.

Hawke had to put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing and alerting the fool to his presence.

"Don't you want to put your big, fat cock in my mouth, Ser? I'll even swallow, and then we'll go quietly, I promise. Just don't hurt me!" Her voice was ridiculously girly, and the man started stammering.

"I, I don't..." He gasped as Ashe's hand found its way down and squeezed his bulge through his pants. He released his grip from her stomach and Hawke could see that he had a knife in his hand. So that was why he wasn't dead already. He pushed her down to her knees and leaned his head back with his eyes closed. Hawke couldn't believe what a stupid fuck he was. He saw Ashe pulling something up from her shoe, but she was still acting like she was going to go through with the blowjob. She unbuckled the man's pants and pulled them down, and Hawke stuck his tongue out in disgust when the man pulled out his dick. Ashe's mouth hovered over it and she said: "This is going to be so sweet," and then she plunged her dagger into the man's groin. He opened his eyes wide in shock and after a second he started screaming. Ashe pulled the blade out and blood spattered everywhere, including Ashe. She stood up and dropped the knife and backed up, probably expecting guards at any second. Hawke walked over to her side and looked down on the still screaming man while Ashe wiped some blood off her face.

"Sheesh, princess, couldn't you have just hit him instead? What a mess. You got your pretty dress all ruined, too," he said, not able to keep the smile off his face. What a wildfire she was.

"Eh. Just wish I'd had my sword with me. Small blades aren't my things, but I'm glad I had one on me. The creep deserved it. Ah, Maker, my ears, what a fucking screamer. Do me a favor, will you, and shut him up?"

Hawke happily complied and bent over and grabbed the noble by his collar and smashed his fist into his face. He was knocked unconscious immediately.

"Who is he anyway?" Hawke asked.

Ashe shrugged. "I think that girl he was talking about is his sister or something. Guess they thought I was a threat. I'll tell Alistair her name later so he can get rid of her."

"What an absolute idiot. Has he been living in a box for the past year? He _knew _who you were, I mean, half of Thedas knows that you've slaughtered hundreds upon hundreds of men and beasts."

"Make that thousands," Ashe said and gave him a crooked smile.

"Yeah, that's my point, princess. What in Andraste's name possesses people to think that they're so special so that they'd survive a violent encounter with you?"

She shrugged again and looked down on the man. "People are fools, you know that."

They both looked up when they heard footsteps running towards them. Several guards entered their view, weapons out, and they were followed by Alistair, Cullen and Mahariel.

"What happened here? We heard screams all the way into the great hall..." They looked down at the bleeding man on the floor. "Who... is that?" Cullen said. Then he looked at Ashe and saw her blood-stained appearance. He rushed forward and touched her cheek. "Maker's breath, Ashe, are you alright?"

Alistair wasn't far behind. "What happened here, Ashe? Are you okay?"

Ashe just snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Make way, boys." Mahariel pushed Cullen and Alistair to the side and stepped between them. She looked at Ashe, then down at the body on the floor, then up at Ashe again. Then she grinned.

"Tried something, did he? That's Jake Hewlender. That slime of a man, he always did have it in for me whenever I visited court on Grey Warden business. I see you've planted your knife right in the crown jewels. Exquisite work, really. Couldn't have done it better myself."

Ashe stared at the woman in surprise for a few seconds before she blinked and smiled. Hawke could see it was a genuine smile this time.

"What happened?" Alistair repeated. "_Did _he try anything? I'll kill him myself if he did," he growled. Cullen looked equally agitated and huffed and puffed as if were about to jump on the man on the floor and finish the job himself.

"Oh, come off it, boys. She could handle it, _obviously. _Now, get the guards to clean up this mess and go blow off your testosterone somewhere else. Come, Inquisitor, I want to hear every detail of how you stuck it to him. Oh, what I would have given to have seen the look on his face!" She took Ashe by the arm and started walking towards the door. Ashe looked surprised again but was still smiling and didn't protest, probably happy that Mahariel berated the men for treating Ashe like she was some delicate little flower. Hawke wasn't surprised that the Warden Commander was so... commanding all of a sudden. He'd met Mahariel a few times before, and out of all the leaders in this room, she and Ashe were the scariest and the most authoritative when they chose to be.

"But, what happened?" Alistair called after them.

"She'll tell you later, Maker, calm yourself Alistiar and let her be," Mahariel said over her shoulder.

The women left the room and Cullen and Alistair stood there staring after them, their mouths open in surprise.

Hawke laughed quietly. If Mahariel and Ashe became friends, which he doubted they would despite their sudden common enemy, that would thoroughly fuck things up in Cullen and Alistair's little game over the heart of the Inquisitor. Or the body of her, he didn't quite know which of the two they desired yet.

He left the mess behind him as well, already forgetting the bloody mess on the floor. All he could think of now was Mahariel and Ashe, naked in bed, with himself in the middle. He smiled to himself. Isabela would be so proud of him.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Cullen**_

After Mahariel and Ashe left, Alistair had to order his guards to fix the mess with the man bleeding on the floor, the one Ashe had put her knife in. Jake Hewlender. Cullen didn't know what he'd tried to do to Ashe, but since she had stabbed him in his fucking groin, it wasn't hard for him to guess. That fucker. If the guards weren't hauling him away to a healer right that second, Cullen would have killed him. He would wake him up, make him confess and then gut him like an animal for touching _his _girl. His stupid arguments and intrigues with Alistair and Mahariel felt like background noise now. Cullen would make Ashe his, the desire was even stronger now. He could protect her better if he had an excuse to be near her all the time. He would _kill_ anyone who tried anything with her. He was almost shaking with fury. Fade, he would kill anyone who even fucking looked at her funny.

After Alistair was satisfied that everything was handled discreetly, he had to return to the party. Cullen, however, had no such plans. As soon as everyone else had left, he headed the other way. He'd find out where Mahariel had taken Ashe, and then he would make his next move.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

Ashe barely had time to register what was happening before she ended up in her own guest quarters. With Mahariel, of all people. Mahariel, who pressed Ashe for every detail of how she'd stabbed Lord Hewlender and what he'd said to her before. The Hero of Ferelden's eyes were alight in a way Ashe hadn't seen before, as she told her everything that had happened.

They finally sat down in a couple of loungers in front of the fire in Ashe's room.

"You must forgive my prying, Inquisitor. It's just, I haven't killed a man in _weeks_, and I'm starving for some action. That you did in that particular creep of a man is an added bonus." Mahariel smiled wickedly and Ashe smiled back, all the while thinking that she ought to be on her guard if this woman was as crazy as she sounded. Mahariel fixed something with the sleeve of her dress and then looked up at Ashe through her long, black lashes.

"Now, Inquisitor, don't think me insane for saying such things. I'm no murderer. But I can't deny that I relish the adrenaline that spikes through your body when you end such a miserable existance as his. I'm sure you know what I mean."

Ashe tried to keep her expression neutral. Although she did actually agree, she didn't know if she should be impressed or terrified of Mahariel. There was just no way to tell.

_Yet._

* * *

_**Cullen**_

He waited for hours outside Ashe's quarters. He heard laughter emerging through the door occasionally, but couldn't hear anything else. He was beyond bored, but Cullen was a patient man. Finally, the door opened and Mahariel stumbled out of it, shutting it clumsily behind her.

_Is she drunk?_

But as soon as she'd shut it, she straightened her back and turned around, not missing a step until she saw Cullen leaning against the wall. She stopped and looked at him, a small smile at the corner of her mouth.

"Cullen," she said, voice smooth as honey.

Cullen bowed his head slightly in greeting. "Mahariel. So, are you going to tell me why you're trying to get my Inquisitor drunk?"

Mahariel stepped closer to him, close enough that he'd only have to raise his hand the slightest bit and he would touch her face. Her golden waves of hair settled over her shoulders as she stilled.

"I've done no such thing. And by the way," she said as she turned and walked away from him, "you can thank me later."

Cullen watched her disappear around the corner, perplexed, before he knocked on Ashe's door. He heard a ruckus from the other side before the handle turned. Ashe opened and looked at him, her eyes slightly glazed over.

_How drunk is she?_

"Cullen." His name fell over her lips like a moan and he found himself suddenly not so concerned about how drunk she was when his eyes took all of her in. She wasn't in her dress anymore. In fact, it seemed she had nothing on but a sheet draped around herself. The light from the fire danced across the naked skin of her shoulders and the bare leg that peeked out through the sheet.

She looked like a goddess.

Before his mind forgot all else, he frowned. "Do you think this is an appropriate way to open the door, Ashe? It could have been anyone out here."

She didn't respond or scoff at him like he expected, she simply backed slowly into the room. He followed and shut the door behind him, never taking his eyes off her.

"I'm sorry, Cullen," she said. "I was a bad girl. But this... this is only for you."

And then she let the sheet drop. Cullen watched as if paralyzed at the fabric pooling around her feet before his eyes slowly rose, drinking in every inch of her. He'd dreamed of this moment so many times, but nothing his mind had conjured could compare to this. _Nothing._

Cullen heard a pained, strangled noise and realized that it came from his own throat. Ashe remained still, her arms at her side, watching him watch her. Maker, her hips, her breasts, her stomach, even lower... The only reason Cullen hadn't moved yet was because he couldn't decide which part of her to claim first. But then Ashe decided for him.

"Take all of me, Cullen."

He was on her before she had time to blink. He kissed her ferociously, making her whimper and press herself into him the moment their lips connected. He felt her naked body underneath his hands and his own blood felt like all the fires in Thedas coursed through it. He lost his mind. Her hands were equally eager on him and he groaned when she found her way down to his pants, stroking his painfully hard cock outside the fabric. They stumbled back towards the bed and he pushed her against one of the bedposts, his tongue plundering her mouth, desperate to taste her as much as possible.

Her fingers found their way inside his shirt and he helped her rip it off.

"Shit!" He hissed with pleasure when her nails dug into his back and he parted her legs with his knee. He renewed his assault on her mouth and it almost brought him to his knees when she moaned into him. His hand dragged across her stomach down between her legs and his eyes shot open when he felt her buck against him while she licked his ear and whispered: "I'm so wet for you Cullen..."

His breathing was almost too ragged for him to speak, but he broke out of the haze as best he could, never stopping his hand moving between her legs. "Do you want me, Ashe? Do you want me to fuck you?" His voice was a husky mess.

"Ohh, Maker, yes Cullen! Please..." she whimpered again. "Do it. Fuck me."

He groaned loudly and started to unlace his breeches.

_Finally, it's finally happening. She'll be mine._

"Wait," she said.

Cullen couldn't believe his ears. "What?" His eyes snapped up to her face but his irritation vanished when he saw the worried look on her face. She was staring at the door, straining to hear something.

"I'm serious, Cullen. Can you hear that?"

He turned around and watched the door and listened. She was right, he could hear some sort of commotion outside.

"Is... Cullen, is someone screaming?"

He immediately ran over to the door and locked it. "Ashe, get dressed, quickly," he said as he searched for his shirt and pulled it over his head again. "Where are your weapons? I don't have my sword with me."

She'd already pulled a robe around herself and was kneeling at the side of the bed. She reached in under it and pulled out a large canvas that was wrapped around several swords. She tossed one to Cullen and took one for herself just before there was a loud bang on the door. Ashe hurried to Cullen's side, and as much as he wished that she would stay back and out of harm's way, he knew it was pointless to ask her.

Both Cullen and Ashe readied their swords before Cullen called out: "Who's there?"

A frantic woman's voice answered: "She's dead! She's... _dead_!"

* * *

He watched from the tower down through the windows of the other side of the palace. He had a perfect view from here. He could see a servant rushing up to her quarters and after a few seconds, she emerged with that damned Commander at her side. His blood boiled at the thought of what he'd been doing to her in there, but it didn't matter now. He looked down at his hands, which were sticky and full of blood, before he looked up again and his eyes caught sight of her once more.

_One day, I will find you. And I'll finally know what I've been searching for._

That's what he'd heard her say, all those years ago.

He mumbled quietly to himself, never taking his eyes off her: "One day, you will see me. Like no other's looked upon this face before."

Then he stepped into the shadows, before the chaos that was sure to erupt at any moment would make slipping away impossible.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Cullen**_

Cullen felt like his blood froze in his veins when the frantic woman kept screaming about 'her' being dead.

_It can't be, please don't let it be Mahri..._

Ashe grabbed the woman and tried to make her calm down but she was hysterical.

"Blood, b-blood everywhere!"

A sharp sound rang out when Ashe finally slapped the servant in the face.

"I'm sorry, but you need to calm down and tell us what's going on," Ashe said.

The woman looked surprised but had ceased her yelling. "I-I didn't know where else to go My Lady, I found... There's a murderer loose in these halls, My Lady! She... Maker, I saw it with my own eyes, so much blood!"

"Damn it woman, tell us where!" Cullen yelled, feeling sick to his stomach with dread over who they would find lying in that pool of blood the servant kept going on about. She turned and looked at him. "Y-yes, Commander, I'm sorry for my behaviour. She's... that way." She pointed to the other side of the corridor and Cullen grabbed Ashe's hand and started walking swiftly in that direction.

"Cullen, we can't just leave her here if there's a killer around, she wouldn't be able to defend herself. You go, I'll stay h..."

Cullen stopped abruptly and cut her off. "No fucking way. I'm not letting you out of my sight. But if someone's done something to Mahariel, I need to know right now. Take her with us if you must."

Ashe only nodded and dragged the scared woman after the two of them.

They rounded a few corners and bends until they came across the scene.

"No, no, no, no! Shit, no, this is not happening..." Cullen whispered as he saw exactly what he'd feared before him. Mahariel, in a bloody mess on the floor, head propped up against the wall and blood gushing out of a nasty wound in her stomach. Her eyes... they were closed.

_I was the one who brought her here. She didn't even want to come, but I begged her to. This is my fault._

Cullen vaguely heard Ashe order the servant to run and fetch the guards and a healer, and that she would have to be brave while Ashe and the Commander would try to help the Hero. Cullen bent down next to Mahariel, blood immediately sticking to his clothes. That's when he saw a second body lying almost hidden from view underneath Mahariel. Some sort of noblewoman by the looks of her extravagant dress. Young, pretty and completely soaked in blood. Her throat had been sliced open so deeply that it seemed a wonder that her head was still attached to the body at all.

"Fuck, Cullen, is Mahariel dead?" Ashe's voice was barely more than a whisper. Cullen felt bile rise in his throat but before he could nod in response, he heard Ashe yelp in surprise and his head snapped around to where she was standing. He was on his feet in less then a second, launching himself her way.

"Ashe, NO!"

* * *

_**Alistair**_

What a fucking night it had been. Not really how he'd pictured the first evening of celebrations. He'd looked forward to having Ashe with him, all to himself after they retired from the party that night. But then that _fucking _Rutherford had showed up, and with Mahariel of all people in Thedas. He still didn't even know how in the Void they even knew each other.

And Mahariel was so damned cold, as always. That's why he didn't want to see her, didn't want her to look at him. He would even have preferred her looking at him with hate or anger, _something _other than that cold indifference. It always did drive him mad, right from the moment they met when he was a hot-headed, young boy. She was always so calm and calculating, hard to read. He could never explain why they'd been drawn to each other romantically in the first place, but the attraction was undeniable all the same. He'd been so furious at her when she'd pushed to make him King, relentless and never once stopping to listen to him. He _told _her that it would mean the end for them, that he could never make her his queen, but that didn't stop her, it didn't even seem to faze her. It had hurt him so badly, more than he admitted even to himself. When he pleaded and begged, all he got in return was one of her cold stares, leaning her head to the side to watch him like a patient parent watched a child throwing a tantrum. It made him so angry. After he'd shouted himself raw, she'd just turned and left.

Alistair shook his head and tried to repress the memory. The things he'd said to her, the names he'd called her that day... She'd deserved it, to be sure, but he regretted his harsh tone anyway. And what he'd done after... He'd just been so mad, and desperate to get a reaction out of her, to force her to show some sort of emotion. He'd gotten it, all right. Maker, he didn't ever want to think about that again, and seeing her here like this made him think of nothing but. Oh, how he wanted to put his hands around Rutherford's throat and squeeze the fucking life out of him for doing this.

And then that nasty business with Hewlender. What in the Fade had gotten into the man? Alistair knew he was a power-hungry bastard but he'd always thought the man a coward. Trying to attack Ashe? In Alistair's own fucking palace no less, the nerve. He would have to speak to Ashe about this and find out all the details as soon as Mahariel laid off her claim on her. It was a pressing matter, of course, but he knew better than to challenge Mahariel when she'd made up her mind, so it would have to wait.

He waited for hours at the party in the grand hall for one of them to return, but when no one did, he gave up and left to retire to his quarters. On his way there, with his guards in tow, he suddenly got the feeling that he was being watched. He even thought he saw someone out of the corner of his eye but when he stopped and looked, there was no one there and none of his guards seemed to react in any way, and they were the elite of the elite.

_Hmm, I could have sworn..._

His mind conjured up images of blonde hair underneath a dark hood, broad shoulders underneath the cloak and... No, that wasn't possible, he hadn't even really seen anything. It must have been the stress of the evening playing tricks on him. He tried to shake off the feeling of unease when he arrived at his quarters and his guards did a quick sweep of them as always, before he retired to his bedroom with the guards outside.

Spending the night alone was _not _what he'd pictured this morning but he just sighed and reminded himself to be patient when his head hit the pillow.

He hadn't even fallen asleep yet when there was a pounding on his door.

"Your Majesty! There's been an attack, we're coming in straight away!"

Alistair didn't even have time to get out of bed before the door slammed open and guards poured into the room.

"What in Andraste's name in going on?" he mumbled while pulling a shirt over his head. "What sort of attack?" he asked, his voice louder and steadier now that he was dressed.

"I'm not sure, Your Majesty, we came here as soon as Company Four told us, they were on duty closest to the scene. Apparently... uhm, several people are dead."

Alistair stared at the man. Dead? "This is unacceptable! The second attack this night, inside my own walls! What the fuck am I paying you for, Captain? To prevent this sort of thing, not standing around looking pretty!"

The guard-captain lowered his eyes to the ground. "A thousand apologies, Your Majesty, I swear we'll get to the bottom of this."

Alistair scrambeled into his armor.

"My King, there's one more thing." The captain still stared at the ground and Alistair felt like punching the man when he didn't continue.

"Well? Out with it!"

"I was told that... that Lady Mahariel and Inquisitor Trevelyan... I'm told that they're..." The captain trailed off, apparently unable to finish his sentence. Alistair froze and stared at him. "What the fuck do you mean? Have they apprehended the guilty party?"

The captain finally looked up. "No, Ser. I'm told that they are the victims. That... Your Majesty, I'm so sorry, that they're both dead."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Alistair**_

It was only a rumor. There was no way that they were dead. Mahariel and Ashe were more than capable of defending themselves against anyone. But despite thinking that, Alistair couldn't help but to run as fast as he could out of his quarters towards what his captain described as the murder scene.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he arrived.

_Both... both of them?_

No, the dead girl being lifted away by the healers and the guards wasn't Ashe. That was... Lady Hewlender? He barely noticed before noting that Ashe was nowhere to be seen. But behind the people hauling off the dead noblewoman was – no.

"Get the fuck out of my way." This wasn't real, couldn't be real. Alistair pushed the guards out of the way until there was nothing obstructing his view of the woman on the floor. Her beautiful, golden hair was matted with blood, her own blood. The wound in her stomach...

He fell to his knees, his hand over his mouth, reaching for her with the other. "No, no, no..." His voice was a broken mess. "Please, Mahariel, wake up, please, please..." He touched her cheek, wishing desperately that she'd open her eyes to yell at him for touching her. But she didn't move. He looked down at her wound again and his hand hovered, shaking, over it, as if he could fix it by just touching it, but he didn't dare to do even that, to touch it. To feel it, feel her blood covering his hand, that would mean that this was real.

His head snapped up to the healers who were just standing there, doing nothing. "Why aren't you helping her? Fix this, now!"

The two women just stared at the floor. "I'm so sorry, Your Majesty. But she's gone, there's nothing we can do for her now," one of them said, never once daring to look at him.

"Don't..." His voice broke. "Don't say that, please," he whispered. "She's still warm, sh-she must have just... No, please..." He could feel tears welling up and spilling from his eyes. He inched closer to Mahariel and put his shaking arms around her. Her head fell against his chest and he could see the tips of her ears peek out through her hair. Her beautiful, delicate ears that he'd once spent hours kissing and caressing, knowing how much she liked it. He lifted his hand to wipe away the tears from his face but it came up covered in blood. He stared at it, the crimsom liquid sticking to his skin, taunting him.

No, this wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

"Wake up, Mahariel, please..." He started shaking her but nothing happened, she just hung limp like a ragdoll in his arms. Had her soul... already left? "No, no, no, wake _up_! Maker, please, please don't take her from me," he sobbed, his voice nothing more than a broken whisper of a prayer. He rocked back and forth on his knees, with the broken body of the first woman he'd ever loved in his embrace. He didn't know how long he sat like that before they came to take her away. He wouldn't let them and he kicked and screamed and lashed out against the healers before his guards subdued him.

"It's for your own good, Your Majesty, we have to protect you," someone said. That and his own broken sobs were the last things he heard before the oblivion of a sleeping spell claimed him.

* * *

He woke up disoriented and looked around and found that he was in his own bed. So it had just been a dream then? He felt relief wash over him, but that relief froze when he saw Ashe's friend Hawke standing at the other side of the room, leaning against the wall and staring into the fire. What the fuck was that man doing in his room? Alistair's eyes flickered towards the door and felt confused when he saw his regular guards standing there. Why would they have let him in?

Then, Hawke turned and looked him straight in the eyes. His expression changed when he saw that Alistair was awake, into a look of sorrow and pity.

_No, no, no. No._

Why would he look at him like that if... if the nightmare wasn't true?

Hawke approached the bed warily. He opened his mouth to speak but Alistair cut him off.

"_Don't. _Don't say it." But the look on the man's face told him everything he needed to know. Mahariel was gone. It felt like someone had reached into his chest and ripped the heart out of him. And all over again when another thought occured to him. He ripped the covers off of himself and sprang to his feet. "Where's Ashe? Th-they told me that she..." He couldn't finish that sentence, the horror of the prospect of her being gone as well was too much for his mind to handle.

Hawke held out his hands in front of him as if to calm Alistair down. "She's alive, but she was badly injured. Cullen is with her now."

"Take me to her, now."

Hawke only nodded and led the way out of the room, Alistair's guards following in silence.

They arrived at the infirmary, and several healers were going about their business in quiet around the room. In the center there was a bed, and Alistair saw Cullen kneeling in front of it, his hands clasped together and head bent down. As he got closer, he heard him mumble prayers. Was she in such a bad shape?

Alistair inhaled sharply when he saw Ashe. She was lying down on the bed in nothing but her underclothes and a large bandage covering her stomach. She was deathly pale and it sickened him to see her like this, nothing like her lovely, lively self. She looked just like... just like Mahariel had done when he'd found her.

_Not her, too, please Maker, I will do anything if you spare her._

He knelt down beside her, next to Cullen. He carefully took her hand in his.

"Andraste, she's so cold. What happened?"

Cullen didn't respond, didn't even give a sign that he'd noticed Alistair beside him.

Hawke came up behind them and answered in Cullen's place. "She and Cullen found Mahariel and the other girl. Greta Hewlender, the little sister of the man who attacked Ashe earlier. From what we could gather, it seems like Lady Hewlender was attacked and Mahariel must have interrupted. Your mages said that the girl died right before... right before Mahariel did."

Alistair listened to the words, trying to fight the weight of them crushing him. But he was confused. "So if they were already dead when Cullen and Ashe found them... Who attacked Ashe?"

Cullen still didn't respond.

"The Commander says that no one did. It was some sort of magic, perhaps a trap or residue of what was used on the others."

That made more sense. He still couldn't believe that Mahariel had been defeated by anything, Maker, he'd seen her slaughter an Archdemon without a scratch on her. She must have been taken entirely by surprise. He couldn't blame her for being caught off guard, she was supposed to be safe here. The guilt crashed down on him and he sank to the floor, breathing hard and fast. This was his fault, it had happened inside his own walls. And now, Ashe was lying there looking like death was just waiting for her to give up, too.

"But I don't understand," he whispered. "Mahariel was still warm when I found her." He turned his head and looked straight at Cullen. "Was she still alive when you found her?"

For the first time since they'd entered the room, Cullen stopped his mumbled prayers. When he didn't say anything, something flared up inside Alistair. He'd just lost Mahariel, sweet Andraste, she was lost to him forever and he would never be able to make anything right with her. She'd died loathing him. Why had she even been here?

Cullen had brought her here.

"Answer me." Alistair's voice was little more than a growl.

Cullen slowly turned his head towards him, but he didn't look him in the eye. "I don't know. At first, I didn't think so. But maybe... I don't know. Then something attacked Ashe and I had to... Maker, Alistair, don't you think that I'm hurting, too? Mahariel was my friend, too, I know how you feel."

Something snapped in him and he was on his feet in a split second and he dragged Cullen up by his collar and put his face not an inch away from the other man's. "Don't you fucking _dare_," he snarled. You will _never _know how I felt about her. It may have been a lifetime ago but no one will ever know the depth of the love I felt for her. She was my everything back then, and I will never forget what that felt like. So don't you fucking dare say that you know how I feel."

He pushed Cullen away violently, sending him stumbling backwards. He jabbed his finger at him. "This is _your _doing. You brought her here, for your own selfish reasons. I know... I _knew_ Mahariel, she probably didn't even want to come, but you persuaded her somehow, and now she's dead. Because of _you_."

Alistair expected him to protest and try to worm his way out of it, but Cullen said nothing, he just looked struck down.

_Good._

"This was all just some game to you, right? I mean, you've had all the time in the world to make Ashe yours, but you probably didn't even show interest in her until I showed up, did you? You used Mahariel as a pawn, trying to wrest my attention away from Ashe. You're the fucking reason she's dead. You don't deserve her," he said and pointed at Ashe, still lying still as death on the bed. When his eyes caught on her pale face, sorrow gripped him again. All that he'd lost... he couldn't lose her too. He turned away from Cullen and sat down at the edge of the bed and took Ashe's hands in his own.

He heard the other man moving up behind him but was stopped by Hawke who stepped in between them. "Not here, Commander. Ashe needs to rest. This will have to wait until later."

He could hear Cullen grunt in response. "This isn't over, Alistair," he snarled. "You're so quick to blame me, but what about your own responsibility? This all went down in _your _house. I would never have allowed something like this to happen in Skyhold. Who did you let inside that could have done this? And know this, I will never stop fighting for Ashe. You believe what you want, but I will never stop, do you hear me? I'll be outside the door for now, but only because I want to protect her. And I'll make damned sure to do a better job than you did."

With that, Cullen left and shut the door behind him. If it wasn't for the fact that Alistair didn't want to leave Ashe, he would have flung himself after the other man.

But his time would come, and he would make sure he would regret those words.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Ashe**_

_Burning._

Maker, she felt like she was on fire. Was she?

A scream tore itself out of her throat and she became vaguely aware of hands gripping her arms. The feeling of mind-shattering panic took a hold of her so strong that she couldn't see how this was anything other than the end of her.

"Help me, _please!_" she pleaded before she inhaled and let out another pained scream.

"Maker's breath, Ashe, please... Somebody do something!"

_Who... is that? Alistair? Cull... _

"Ahhhh! Please, please, make it stop!"

A new spike of red, hot pain threatening to consume her was the last thing she felt before the blackness took her again.

* * *

She woke up and shot up to a sitting position. Maker, the burning... it felt like she'd been in flames only a second ago, but the pain was gone now. She drew in deep breaths, relieved beyond measure to feel the cold air fill her lungs.

"Ashe?"

Someone whispered her name and she looked up slowly, and through the strands of hair sticking down in front of her face she saw Cullen kneeling at the side of the bed.

_Safe. If he's here, you're safe. _

She let out a sob and threw herself against him, her arms around his neck, burying her face against his chest. Normally such behaviour was unthinkable, showing such weakness in any situation was unacceptable. But she couldn't help it now. She felt as if she'd been stuck in the deepest, darkest corner of the Fade – to be forgotten in excruciating pain for all eternity - and Cullen... He was _home._

"Hush, it's alright, love, I'm here for you, nothing is going to happen to you," he said softly while pressing her tighter against him, his hand stroking her hair soothingly. "I won't ever let anything happen to you again."

A flashing thought of how he wouldn't be able to keep that promise forever passed through her head, but she forgot as he held her tighter. Right now, she believed him.

They sat like that for a long time, with Cullen comforting her while the panic she felt slowly faded. Finally, Cullen spoke. "Ashe, do you remember what happened?"

Her mind immediately went to the memory of the burning in the Fade but she steeled herself not to think about. "I... I remember someone knocking on our door. We... Maker, Mahariel! Is she alright?"

She leaned back so she could see Cullen's face. His expression...

"No," she whispered.

He looked up at her and there were tears in his eyes. Through everything they'd been through together, she'd never once seen him cry.

"She's gone. And I thought that I'd..." He took Ashe's hands in his own and brought them to his lips and kissed them tightly while a single teardrop spilled down onto her skin. "I thought I'd lost you too."

It seemed impossible. The Hero of Ferelden, dead? What about - "Maker's breath, where is Alistair?" she asked. He must be beside himself with grief.

Cullen's eyes darkened and his jaw tightened. "He's busy. Ferelden is in an official state of mourning and he has his hands full avoiding a wide-spread panic. The Hero of Ferelden, dead, in his own palace of all places. Everyone has all sorts of questions. About you, too."

Ashe felt confusion grip her. "What questions? How long have I been out? Haven't you seiezed whoever it was that did this yet?"

Cullen shook his head. "A few days. Regarding who attacked you, I wish I could give you a different answer, but no. Whoever it was is long gone. Hawke left as soon as he was certain that you'd survive. He took off alone, to search for answers he said."

Anger. Ashe let it fill her up, pushing all fear to the side. This sort of thing, she knew how to deal with. She would hunt down the one who'd tried to hurt her, and – Maker, _killed _Mahariel. She'd make them pay.

She tried to stand up.

"What do you think you're doing, Ashe?" Cullen grabbed her arms to steady her.

"I'm going to see Alistair and then I'm getting to the bottom of this."

"You're not well yet, don't..." Cullen started but she cut him off.

"All the fucking way down to the bottom, do you understand me?" she said, and he must have seen the determination in her eyes because he sighed and nodded.

"Fine. But if you think I'm letting you out of my sight for one second before we've caught the one who did this to you, you're sorely mistaken.

"Fine. But no Maker damned aruguments with Alistair, then. We've more important things to do."

He only grunted in response to that. "By the way, I think maybe you should run a comb through your hair and, uhm, get dressed, before you go out the door.

Ashe stopped and caught a look at herself in the mirror leaning against the wall.

"Maker's breath. You might be right about that."

* * *

_**Cullen**_

"You have five minutes and not a second more. I'll be right outside the door. You," he pointed his finger at Alistair, "keep her safe, or so help me I will tear your throat out with my bare hands."

Cullen didn't wait for a reply from either the King or Ashe and he marched out of Alistair's meeting room. He positioned himself outside the door, sqeezing himself in between two of the guards. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wood, keeping his eyes open and vigilant. He would not let himself be distracted by the fact that Ashe was alone with the bastard, probably comforting him and telling him how sorry she was for his loss.

Cullen scoffed. That _boy _had never deserved Mahariel, and he acted as if he alone had the right to mourn her, to play the wounded party and wrest sympathy out of Ashe. He wouldn't be surprised if Alistair milked this for all it was worth. While Cullen didn't doubt that he was sad and horrified over Mahariel's death, it wasn't as though the two of them had been on good terms, not for a long time. Cullen might have teased her about Alistair and tried to make her admit that she still cared for him, but she'd truly convinced him that she didn't anymore when he'd seen her reaction to Ashe and Alistair's 'relationship' or whatever one would call it. She'd looked amused, and a little bored.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone at the other side of the door. He stepped back and watched as the door opened and Ashe slipped through.

"What?" she said. "Don't look so surprised. You said five minutes, and while I would normally have your hide for trying to order me around, right now I do _not _need you trying to kill Alistair. Besides, we have things to do. A killer to find. We're _good _at this sort of thing, Cullen."

He did indeed feel surprised that she'd obeyed him, and even more so over the fact that she didn't emerge teary-eyed from her meeting with Alistair, but with a twinkle in her eye when she spoke of what they had to do. Like a mission. This, he realized, was exactly what she needed.

He walked her back to her guest quarters, a whole retinue of guards following them all the way to her door.

_Alistair's tightened security. A bit late, maybe._

"What's this?"

Ashe had stopped in front of her bed and she was looking at something on it. Cullen came up beside her. It looked like a piece of paper.

She picked up the note and Cullen saw confusion spread on her face while she scanned the page. "I know these words. It's an old poem that I liked when I was younger. I read it a lot actually."

Cullen snatched the piece of paper from her hand and quickly read the words. They didn't mean much to him. He looked back at her and she seemed to be contemplating something.

"Could it be, I wonder..." she said, her mind obviously elsewhere.

Cullen's eyes returned to the paper. "One day, I will find you. And I've finally know what I've been searching for. One day, you will see me. Like no other's looked upon this face before. Dreams, beneath the surface..." He stopped when he saw her expression change at the edge of his vision and his head snapped up to her.

"No, it can't be, it _can't_," she whispered. She fell to her knees and Cullen caught her arms, stopping her from falling to the floor completely.

"Ashe, for the love of the Maker, what's wrong?"

She shook her head in apparent disbelief. "I remember... the burning, in the Fade, before. Beneath the surface, the day is here, he found me..."

Her rambling worried him. "Love, do you remember what happened when you were unconscious, is that it? Dreams can be strange," he said, trying to calm her down, fearing a breakdown.

"He wouldn't do this to me. He liked me so much. He used to... Maker, he _loved _listening when I read this!" She pointed to the note that he'd dropped to the floor when he caught her. She sagged and Cullen sat down on the bed and pulled her onto his lap.

"Who, Ashe? Tell me, did he do this to you, to Mahariel? Ashe?"

But she wouldn't answer him, because her head fell back and Cullen felt like someone had plunged a knife into him when he saw that her eyes were not closed, but glazed over with a red tinge. But she was not there. She didn't seem to even be awake, despite her open eyes.

"Ashe, _please _don't do this to me. Wake up and tell me who you're speaking of, so that I can kill him for doing this to you."

Someone snorted from the direction of the window. "Oh, please. You could try."


	16. Chapter 16

_**Cullen**_

His head snapped around to where the voice was coming from and when he saw the man leaning against the window and recognized his face, he quickly put Ashe down on the bed and lunged for the man.

Cullen grabbed him by the collar and yanked it hard.

"_You._"

"Hey, hey, woah!" The other man threw his hands up beside his head in a sign of surrender. "It's not what you think, Knight-Captain!"

Cullen smashed the man's head into the wall behind them, expecting a magical counter attack any second now. But it didn't come.

The hood of the other man's cloak had fallen back in the impact, and Cullen could see him more clearly now. He snorted, disgusted. "You fucking murderer. Abomination. What have you done to Ashe? You fix her right now or so help me I will snap your pathetic, little neck!"

"I didn't do this to her, I swear! Ugh, Maker, that's going to sting tomorrow," the man said and rubbed the back of his head. Cullen's patience was beyond emptied and he yanked the man to him again, almost choking him. "Maker's balls, just calm down! I, eh, realize how this looks, my entrance was a little dramatic perhaps, but there was no way I could just waltz into the palace, you know!"

Oh, Cullen knew. "Yes, last time I checked, blowing up a Chantry and murdering hundreds of people made it a little more difficult to recieve an invitation to royal parties. Now, tell me Anders, what have you _done_?"

"Hard... to answer... when... you're choking... me!" Anders wheezed and Cullen reluctantly loosened the grip he hadn't even realized he'd tightened around the mage's throat.

Anders coughed and regained his breath. "I'm not the one who did this to her. But I think I know who did, and that's what worries me, that's why I'm here. I couldn't just let Ashe fall prey to him and do nothing."

Cullen stared at him. He was about to demand to know why he should believe him when he saw Anders look over to the bed, his eyes fixed on Ashe. Cullen didn't have a hard time registering the worry in the mage's face. But none of this made sense.

"How in the Maker's name do you know Ashe?"

"It's a long story. And I would prefer to speak with Ashe before I say to much to you, Knight-Captain." Anders never once took his eyes off her and Cullen shoved him back and placed himself between him and the bed.

"You're as crazy as I thought if you think that I'm going to let you near her."

Anders tilted his chin up at Cullen.

_As infuriatingly defiant as ever._

"Shove off, Knight-Captain."

"Stop calling me that. If you're so well-informed, you know I'm not even a Templar anymore."

Anders snorted. "Once a T-man, always a T-man."

"T...man? Are you serious?"

"Yes, deathly so. Now move if you want me to figure out what's wrong with her. I should think that you do want that, since you're clearly not doing so well yourself."

"I told you, you're not getting fucking near her. _Guards!_" he shouted, and Anders shook his head as if disappointed while the door flew open and a half-dozen guards poured into the room.

"Seize this man, he's an intruder and a wanted criminal," Cullen said and pointed at the other man. Several of the guards moved forward and grabbed Anders' arms. "He's a dangerous blood mage. I'm sure the King has several cells at Fort Drakon with magical wards, yes? It's imperative that you put him in one of those, do you understand?"

The commanding officer looked unsure of himself. "Yes, Commander, but I have to consult with His Majesty first, I..."

"There is no time. You've apprehended a dangerous criminal, are you going to bring him to the King and put him in danger or are you going to tell him that you have a prisoner safely locked away behind magical wards?" Cullen's voice was stern and he made sure his expression did not invite any more arguing.

The guard nodded. "Yes, Commander." He waved his hand at the soldiers who had Anders in their grip. "Let's move out."

Cullen grabbed one of the guards that didn't have a hold on Anders. "Get me a healer, right now. Something is wrong with the Lady Inquisitor. And... get the King as well. He'd want to know," he said through gritted teeth. The guard nodded and hurried out the door. As the others passed Cullen with Anders, the mage jerked to a halt, obviously stronger than the soldiers.

"They can't help her. Come find me when you've come to your senses, Cullen. If you want her to live." He let the soldiers take hold of him again and Cullen watched them leave. It was strange that Anders let them take him, but it could all be some elaborate plot to gain his trust. His decision to not let him near Ashe was a good one, he was sure.

His eyes flitted back to the bed where she was laying. He hurried over there, his gut twisting with fear that she'd worsened while Anders had distracted him. He sat down beside her, unsure of what to do. She looked more peaceful now, at least. Her eyes were closed now and she seemed to be breathing fine. It was if she were just asleep. Maker, how he wished that were the case. This wasn't right, any of it. She should be asleep in his arms after hours of making love to him, not unconscious because some crazy mage was obsessed with her or whatever the fuck was going on here.

He almost jumped out of his skin when Ashe flew up into a sitting position, drawing a breath so loud and sharp it was as if she'd dreamed she was drowning.

* * *

_**Ashe **_

Maker preserve her, she was on fire again. She couldn't remember anything but a dark, endless abyss and as she blinked and opened her eyes, she found herself sitting in a bed. She saw Cullen sitting right in front of her. She barely had time to register the look of surprise on his face before she felt the fire rage through her again. But this was nothing like last time, there was no pain. No, this was... _desire._ Maker, his face - so ruggedly handsome. Those golden waves of hair crowning his head, his broad shoulders trapped beneath all that armor... She felt light-headed, heat pooling between her legs as she pressed her thighs together while looking over him hungrily. It was consuming her, the _need _for him.

"Maker's breath, Ashe, you're awake! How are you feeling? You look... feverish," Cullen said, his tone hesitant. "Are you..." He was cut short when she leaped onto him, agile like a cat, and straddled his lap. He yelped in surprise but she silenced him by pressing her lips over his. It felt like he was about to pull back but Ashe wouldn't have any of that. She teased his lips open and stuck her tongue into his mouth and she purred with pleasure when that elicited a deep moan from him. But still he pulled back.

"Ashe, you're burning up... Are you really okay?"

"_Cullen_," she breathed. "I'm only burning because all I can see is you. You consume my every thought." She could feel how her words made him melt underneath her as he gripped her arms hard, almost like he couldn't control himself. Andraste knew _she _couldn't. "I need to feel you inside of me, Maker, how I want you to take me, to _fuck _me."

He growled and pushed her back into the bed.

"Fade, Cullen, if you don't take that armor off right now I'm going to start without you." His eyes were nothing but a burning shade of black now and he stood up and quickly shed piece after piece of metal off himself, staring at her while she tore off her own clothes. The chill of the air against her naked skin did nothing to cool her down and she felt dizzy as she drank in the sight of his now very naked, verychiseled body.

She leaned her head back down on the pillow and let her hair spill around her head, hoping that he would find her as attractive as she found him. She beckoned for him with her hand. "Come, I can't wait to touch every inch of you," she whispered, and he obeyed eagerly. He crawled over him and she spread her legs for him while pulling his face down to hers. "Feel how wet you make me, Cullen," she whispered and she could practically feel his pulse blowing up and his breathing was coming in short, ragged gulps as his hand travelled down her stomach before finally touching her where she was aching so badly for him.

He groaned and pushed his fingers against her in such a delicious way she had to bite her lip to stop herself from screaming. "Your cunt is _soaking _wet, love..." he breathed. "I have to taste you." He slid under the covers and Ashe completely forgot every notion about trying to stay quiet when she felt his tounge slide all the way from her opening up to her painfully swollen clit. She moaned and breathed his name, over and over while clenching her fists against the sheet, desperately clinging to the fabric while he lapped and drank from her like no other man had done before. The fire she'd woken up with raged even stronger in her now, like a thirst that refused to be quenched.

"Please, Cullen, I need you to fuck me, fill me up, _please_..."

She felt him move and he kissed his way up her stomach and over her breasts, where he lingered, placing wet kisses over both of her hard, rosy nipples before continuing up. He kissed her again and she could taste herself on his lips. It felt so dirty – and _so_, fucking good. He positioned himself between her legs and she reached out and grabbed the covers, pulling them up over his ass and her legs, craving the cool touch of the fabric sliding against their skin. He stared at her face, the dark, lustful but reverent look in his eyes making her shiver all over. She threw her head back when she felt the head of his cock push against her opening, biting her lip again as she felt him slide in the first little bit. He was so big that there was no way he'd be able to do it in one go, no matter how slick she was. He pulled out and pushed himself back in, reaching a little further each time, the rumble in his chest growing by the second. He finally managed to bury himself completely in her and it was _everything. _The sounds he made did something to her, made her burn even hotter. She wanted more, wanted him _deeper_, until she couldn't tell where she began and he ended. She moved with him, buried her nails in his back and whispered dirty things in his ear.

"Like that, just like that, Cullen... Maker save me, you feel too fucking good, fucking my dirty, wet cunt like this."

Cullen's eyes bore into her and his thusts grew harder, just like she craved. "Fuck, I'm not going to last if you keep talking like that, Ashe... You're so fucking filthy, such a little slut... _My _slut, only mine," he breathed, his voice deep and ragged, making her feel like a little teenager again, in awe of the incredible man on top of her, _in _her.

"I don't want you to last, I want you to fill my cunt with your warm, hot sperm. I want to feel you explode in me, Cullen," she whispered.

"Fuck!" he yelled and grabbed her hands, pulling her wrists up above her head where he held them against the head of the bed with one hand while tightening his grip on her hip with the other. He was fucking her like a beast and she loved every fucking second of it. She barely noticed the door opening, she was so far gone in ecstasy.

She saw Cullen's head turn against the door but he never stopped moving. "Get the fuck out, you're no longer needed," he snarled before looking at Ashe again, leaning his forehead against her shoulder. Ashe bit her lip to stop a moan when Cullen angled himself to move even deeper inside her and she managed to at least look to see who had disturbed them. She saw the shocked face of some woman in healer robes and when the woman stubled back and out, she saw another figure behind the woman.

Alistair. He looked seething, his fists clenched at his sides, but she was too far gone to stop now and she automatically threw her head back when she felt Cullen's fingers pressing against her clit while he kept fucking her like crazy. When she glanced back at the door, there was no one there and the door was closed. But she couldn't feel guilty now, not in the middle of the heavenly feeling of Cullen covering every inch of her. The pressure built in her so fast and it felt like a fucking river breaking free of its dam when she came, screaming Cullen's name and clenching around his hard, pulsating cock.

Cullen was moaning equally as desperately and pulled himself out in the last second and covered her stomach and her breasts with his hot seed.

They lay panting side by side for a few seconds before Cullen pulled her close. He kissed the top of her head. "Don't you ever scare me like that again, Ashe Trevelyan. Don't disappear on me again," he mumbled against her hair. She stroked the arm he had wrapped around her.

"Shh, we'll talk about it in the morning. We both need rest now. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise." She looked out and it was so dark, it had to be the middle of the night. After a while, when she heard Cullen breathing heavily of sleep, she quietly slipped out of bed to wash herself up. Maker, it was so hot in there. She cleaned herself off at the wash basin and wrapped a robe around herself, but it was too hot. She felt like she was burning again. She felt something very familiar flutter in her stomach and she had to press her thighs together again, heat pouring into her. Shit.

* * *

_**Alistair**_

"Don't fucking disturb me again," he yelled to his guards and slammed the door to his quarters shut. He paced around the room, rage, hatred and jealousy filling every fibre in him. His guards had woken him up in the middle of the night. 'Come quickly', they'd said. 'Commander Cullen says it's urgent,' they'd said.

_That cocky, fucking bastard!_

Alistair took the nearest fragile object, a vase from the bookshelf, and hurled it against the wall, smashing it into a million tiny pieces. It wasn't enough. He swept the rest of the things on the shelf down to the floor. Cullen had fucking _fetched_ him so that he would see how he claimed Ashe, like some fucking brute, making his rival watch as he won the grand prize. How the fuck could Ashe not see what a low-life her Commander was? He'd poisoned her with his words, Alistair was sure of it. She was young, impressionable, and Cullen was a figure of authority. What in the Fade was wrong with him, anyway? Mahariel had _just _been murdered, Ashe nearly dying with her. This was not the time for any of this shit! Taking advantage of Ashe, when he _knew_ she was vulnerable, when he knew that Alistair was so busy with the aftermath of Mahariel's murder. He would fucking kill him. He sank down into a chair in front of the fire and contemplated all the ways he could do it in. Cullen was a dead man walking.

He didn't know how much time had passed while he sat there when there was a knock on his door. He walked towards it and yanked it open. "I told you not to fucking..." He quieted when he saw Ashe standing in the doorway, barefoot and wearing nothing but a robe.

"Ashe?"

She pushed him inside and shut the door behind them. "I'm so sorry what about what you saw earlier, Alistair, I didn't mean to hurt you."

He felt confused. Did she come here in the middle of the night just to say that? "Why are you here, Ashe, when you've clearly..."

"I'm here to do this," she said, and then she placed both hands on his neck and pulled him closer and kissed him.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Alistair**_

Maker have mercy on him, she was kissing him. She'd come to his doorstep in the middle of the night, wearing next to nothing, and she'd come to do this to him. Any other time, he would have welcomed it, savoured it, reveled in her attention. But after what he just saw – her, writhing underneath the man he hated most in the world, only days after Mahariel's death... Alistair had limits to what he could endure.

After allowing her to tempt him for a few seconds, he reluctantly pushed her away from him. Conflicting emotions raged in him as he immediately missed her soft lips against his. She looked crestfallen and when he searched her face for more, an answer to her actions – anything, she couldn't look him in the eyes and her gaze dropped to her feet. Alistair hated seeing her like this, so unlike her usual confident self, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

After a full minute of painful silence, he couldn't take it anymore. "Sit down. If you have something to say to me, say it," he said and motioned for one of the chairs by the fire. She nodded and walked over to it and sank down. He sat down opposite of her and waited for her to say something.

"There's something wrong with me, Alistair. Someone is doing something to me. I have no control over it." She still didn't look at him.

He was ashamed when a tiny bit of hope awoke in him alongside the horror of the prospect of someone doing something against her will. "What do you mean?" Maybe the thing with Cullen wasn't...

"I can see what you're thinking, Alistair, and I don't mean that," she said. She was at least looking at him now, her head held straight. "What I did with Cullen, I... nobody _made _me do that."

Maker, he didn't want to hear this. But he said nothing.

"But before that, I was unconscious. It was like someone was attacking my mind. I don't remember much but I remember that when I awoke, I was afraid and Cullen was there, watching over me, just like last time and... I just needed to feel alive, you know? To feel something other than that horrifying, black abyss swallowing me up. And you know how I feel about him, I've never lied to you about that. I know that you knew the minute you decided to pursue me or whatever it is that you're doing. Maybe that's even what spurred you on, the competition, the game? I don't know what I was thinking when I came here, I just... needed you, too, I guess."

Now it was Alistair's turn to stare at his feet. Her honesty was unexpected. She was so good at playing games, he'd never thought she would just confess what had actually happened. And he didn't know how to feel about it. He was hurt, true, and angry. So fucking angry that he wanted nothing more than to gut her precious commander and to shake Ashe and make her see how stupid she was for falling for his wicked abuse. But he couldn't deny the things she said about himself, about his intentions. He _had_ known about Cullen, he could see it from the moment he saw the Commander looking at her. He'd even found it amusing at first.

He looked up at her, straightening himself to match her stance. "Back then, Ashe, it... I admit, it was more of a game to me. But I didn't know you then, you were just an intriguing, powerful woman and I wanted... Maker, I don't know what to say, but all that changed when I fell for you. You are more than just the Inquisitor, so much more, and it felt like you understood me, that you saw me as more than just a king. In fact, you didn't even seem to care about my title. Why should you? My status is not above yours. You have no idea how much you amaze me, not because you're pretty much the only equal I have around me, but because of who you are as a person. You're not perfect, but you don't apologize for that. You do what you want, and I can't blame you. You make me feel more human, Ashe. And I can't stop thinking about you. That's why it hurts so fucking much."

She watched him with an expression impossible to read, and after his last words, silence fell over the room. He'd rambled, he knew, but at least he'd been honest with her.

She got up and stood before the fire, staring into it for a few moments, before she turned and looked at him. "I really like you Alistair. More than you know. And I'm sorry that you saw what happened earlier, it was really bad of me to do such a thing under your roof, disrespectful even."

She looked genuinely sad, and Alistair could feel some of his anger toward her dissipate. She'd said herself that she'd been confused and afraid. Really, it was Cullen who was to blame for taking advantage of her. Maybe he was just making excuses for her but it was so much easier to believe what his heart wanted to believe.

"I know I can't keep doing this forever," she continued. "Sure, I can do what I want, it's my right. But the same is true for you and Cullen and neither of you will accept this for much longer, I know. But there's too much going on right now, and I don't know what to do." She turned and stared into the fire again. "I don't know who's after me." Her voice almost broke over her last words and Alistair couldn't help himself as he stood up and went to her. He put his arms around her from behind and she clutched her arms around his and he felt something wet splash against his hand. Andraste, was she crying?

"I hate, _hate _what this is doing to me. Making me weak like this," she whispered. "Swords and arrows I can deal with, Maker knows I've been bruised and cut and wounded countless times, that doesn't scare me. But someone is messing with my _head_, Alistair, and I can't fucking take it, not knowing who it is or what they're doing."

A thought struck him then, something he'd pushed to the side before. "My men said earlier that they'd apprehended someone, an intruder inside the walls. I didn't think of it much then because they also told me that I needed to go to your quarters, that something had happened to you. I thought at the time that the two were unrelated, because when I got to you, all I found was... you know."

She squeezed his hand a little tighter, as if to say she was sorry again. "Who was the intruder?" she asked.

"I don't know. They only told me they'd taken him to Fort Drakon."

She turned around and looked at him. "Could it be him, you think?"

"Let's find out, shall we?"

* * *

_**Ashe**_

The earliest signs of daylight was coloring the sky when they stepped inside the gates of Drakon. Ashe remembered that she'd promised Cullen that she'd be there in the morning when he woke up, and that he would probably be livid to wake up and find her missing. But it couldn't be helped. If this prisoner was the one who'd attacked her, she needed to know.

While they walked deeper into the fort, the jailer told them what he knew about the prisoner.

"A male, in his thirties by the looks of him, mage. We put him in a warded cell to strangle his magic, as per protocol and by the Commander's orders."

Alistair stopped walking abruptly and Ashe almost bumbed into him from behind. "What the fuck do you mean, 'the Commander's orders'?" he snarled.

"Only what I was told by the captain who brought the man in, your Majesty. The prisoner was found lurking around in your quarters, Lady Inquisitor," the man said and looked at Ashe.

Cold shivers ran down the length of her spine. "_In _my quarters?" she asked, incredulous.

Alistair looked positively fuming. "I'll deal with this later," he said, his jaw tight and his words strained. Ashe could hear in his voice that heads would roll later on, but for now, Alistair motioned for the jailer to keep walking. After several more minutes of spiralling stairways deeper into the dungeon they arrived outside a small cell with a door, only a tiny, barred opening at the top, barely large enough to see through. The corridor they were standing in was lined with guards. They weren't taking any chances with this one, apparently.

"Here we are your Majesty, Lady Inquisitor. I'll open the door for you, and don't worry, there's still a ward in place so he can't come out or hurt you."

The jailer proceeded with unlocking the door and swung it open. Alistair stood in front of Ashe protectively, and she thought it was sweet that he did so despite the jailers' assuring words.

Inside the small cell, a man sat in the corner with his hood up. He almost looked like he was sleeping, his chin against his chest. There was something so familiar about him. When he looked up and the hood fell back, disbelief washed over her. She hadn't seen that face since she was seventeen years old. She stepped around Alistair, deaf to his protests and positioned herself right in front of the lightly shimmering barrier.

The man got up to his feet and stood right in front of her. Were it not for the barrier, she could have reached out and touched his face easily. She was flooded with confusion. What was he doing here? He... _he _hadn't done all this to her, had he? No, it couldn't be.

"Adrian, is that you?" she whispered and held her palm up against the barrier without even thinking about it.

The man smiled and held his hand up as if to touch hers on the other side. "Yes, kitten, it's really me."

That stupid grin that she'd laughed at so many times, the adoration she could see clear as day in his eyes – there was no way in the Fade that he was the one behind the attacks, she was sure of it. Until she heard Alistair speak behind her.

"Your name is not Adrian, though, is it, Anders?"


	18. Chapter 18

_**Ashe**_

"Why does he call you Anders?" Ashe said and looked sharply at Adrian. She didn't like where this was headed.

Adrian opened his mouth to speak but Alistair intercepted him. "Because that's his name. I don't know what he's told you, but I'd bet half the kingdom that not a word of it is true. When did you even meet? He's been missing for years."

So what if Adrian... no, _Anders_, had lied about his name? He'd told her, back when they first met, that he was on the run. She could forgive him for being cautious, even though it stung that he hadn't trusted her more than that.

"Is it true? Is that your real name?" she asked, keeping her voice neutral.

That kind, handsome face behind the shimmering of the magic frowned. He looked sad, but not apologetic.

"Yes, kitten, it's true. I'm sorry I never told you, but I couldn't risk it."

Alistair stepped closer and put a protective arm out in front of Ashe while he practically growled at the man in the cell. "Stop calling her that, like she's someone you deserve to even look at. You're a bloody murderer."

Ashe stared at Alistair. "What do you mean, a _murderer_? He ran away so that he wouldn't have to..."

"So that he wouldn't have to what, Ashe? What did he tell you?"

"Please, your Majesty, give me a chance to explain to her myself, give us but five minutes alone, I beg of you." Anders looked pleadingly at Alistair, who only scoffed at the man.

"Not a chance. I'm not letting her out of my sight," he said. Ashe felt serious irritation rise and overtake her confusion.

"I think I get to decide that, Alistair. Leave us."

Alistair looked incredulous. "But, he – no, no way!"

Ashe bore her eyes into him and lowered her voice. "It's _my _decision."

"But he could be the one who... who _killed _Mahariel," Alistair said, almost choking out the name of his dead former lover. "I can't let anything happen to you, Ashe, it would kill me." His eyes were desperate, and his face filled with concern and Ashe felt herself relent. She even felt a bit bad about her words.

_Why do you always have to be such a hardass?_

She should have been more sensitive to his loss and his concern. She took his hands in her. "I'll be fine, I promise. The barrier is still in place, and I'm the Inquisitor, remember?" She flexed her hand and let the green light from her mark sparkle dramatically. "It takes more than one man to take me down, and certainly more than one locked behind a magical barrier. And look at all these guards, Alistair, we're in their line of sight. I just need a few minutes. You can wait just outside the door, okay?"

Alistair looked like he was about to protest but then he clenched his jaw and nodded. He squeezed her hands before he let them go and he walked out the door. Ashe returned her attention to Anders, fixing him with her gaze.. "I want the truth, and nothing but, got it? Or I'll fry you," she said and flexed her hand again, green sparkles fizzing from her skin.

* * *

_**2 years ago**_

That day, it had been exactly one year since her father and her brothers beat that Templar to death right in front of her. One year in which she'd learned what felt like a lifetime's worth of experience about how people worked. Sadly, she had yet to succeed in talking her father into that she should still become a Templar, after what had happened. She was damned good with a blade, and Maker knew she'd rather die than become someones wife, doomed to a lifetime of gossip and embroidering and other equally useless things. She trained hard every single day - she was strong, disciplined. But her father was a stubborn ass and simply refused to listen to her. That man never did anything out of the ordinary, and she'd almost given up hope.

Ashe had just finished her training in the chamber next to her bedroom, where she kept her weapons and dummies. She'd removed her armor and placed it on the rack, sweat trickling down her neck, running along her slender back. She jumped when the door opened, wearing nothing but her tunic and some tights. In walked a tall, blonde man clad in a servant's uniform. She didn't recognize him. The man froze when he caught sight of her.

Ashe put her hands on her hips and watched him. He was handsome, no doubt about it. She could tell he had no business being a servant. Something about the way he moved, how he carried himself. "You new around here? Never seen you before," she said.

The man cleared his throat. "Yes, my Lady, my first day. I was told to clean this room, although I wasn't informed that the young Lady Trevelyan would still be in here," he said, his tone sure and direct, nothing like a servant's at all. And he didn't avert his eyes from her, scantily clad as she was.

"Seems unfair that you know my name but I don't know yours, especially since you're seeing me in little more than my undergarments." Her father would have her hide if he knew she didn't immediately cover herself up in front of the servant, which made her want to reveal even more of herself to this intriguing man, whom she was still convinced had no business being a servant. She pretended to scratch her shoulder while she carefully parted her tunic down the middle, revealing the outline of her breasts.

She felt perplexed when his eyes didn't shoot to the newly exposed flesh but kept on her face. He chuckled and stepped closer to her. He took her hand and brought it to his face and kissed it lightly. "Forgive me, my Lady. My name is Adrian. I just assumed that you wouldn't be interested. This estate has so many servants, it must be impossible for you to keep track of them all."

"Not really. I make it my business to know who walks in and out of these halls. Self-preservation, you might call it," she said and smiled. She liked this man.

"Ah, you're like your father then."

"By the Maker, I hope not!" she exclaimed and he laughed again. She liked the sound of that, too. "So, Adrian. Would you like to tell me what a man like you are doing here, playing the obedient servant when he so obviously is nothing of the sort?"

Adrian's smile froze and disappeared. He released her hand and took a step back. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, my Lady."

"I'm sure that you _do_, Adrian. You see, I'm not so much like my father after all. You came here looking for a job, yes? Then all he sees is someone beneath him. But I have the advantage of not thinking that anyone is beneath me, unless that someone is a scumbag, of course. So I see more than he does, than most people do. And it took me about two seconds of looking at you to see that you are anything but a servant."

He stayed quiet, and just watched her, his face filled with curiosity mingled with a deep frown. His lack of an answer confirmed her suspicion as clearly as if he'd admitted it out loud.

"Don't worry, I won't tell," she said. "But I want to hear more about you. Please, think of it as a favor to me. Giving the bored-to-death-girl a moment of excitement! And as I'm sure you can figure yourself, the favor of the only young, female Trevelyan in this household is not to be shrugged at."

"As you wish, my Lady. But whatever I was before, I have duties to attend to now, and..."

"Nonsense," she interrupted him. "Who do you report to?"

"Miss Seraphina."

"I'll speak with her, then. I'll tell her I want my room cleaned by the handsome new servant. She'll have a fit, I'm sure, terrified that I'll do something inappropriate, she always is. But I'll handle it," Ashe said and winked at him.

His guarded expression softened a little. "As you say, my Lady."

"Now, if you'll excuse me Adrian, I need some privacy. Unless you intend to stay and make this even more wildly inappropriate than it already is by watching my undress completely?"

Adrian smiled. "I think that's enough excitement for one morning." He bowed and walked out of the room and Ashe was more intrigued than she'd been in a long time.

* * *

_**Ashe, present day**_

Her heart was racing. She couldn't believe it, everything he'd just told her. She'd _trusted _him, she'd confided in him so many times, let herself be unprotected in his company, _laughed _with him.

"So it was all lies?" Her voice displayed stength and confidence she didn't feel.

Anders put his hands against the barrier. "No, kitten, I swear, everything I told you was true, just not... not my background."

"Your _background_? You mean how you murdered hundreds of innocent people?"

"Ashe, please. You of all people know what it is like, to have to take action when no one else will. Don't you think I've heard about the ruthless Inquisitor? How people cower in fear when they hear your name? How many lives have _you _taken along the way? I don't blame you, not one bit. You did what was nessecary for the greater good."

Ashe spat on the ground before him and turned on her heel to leave.

"Ashe, _please_! There's someone out there who's after you, I can help you find him! I _love _you. Don't let this come between us."

Ashe stopped and listened to his words but she didn't turn around. Her squeezed her eyes shut. "You always said I was like a sister to you. Do you still mean it?"

"I... yes, yes of course," he whispered. Ashe shuddered when she could hear the falseness in his voice.

"You know you shouldn't lie to me, Adr... _Anders_. Send word when you're ready to tell me the truth. Until then, you can stay here and rot and the men who really, truly love me can help me instead."

She walked away to the sound of his protests, her heart pounding in anger and disappointment. The man she'd loved more than her own brothers... he could go hang himself for all he cared. Her thoughts turned to Cullen, to Alistair. They might not be perfect, and they might be fighting over her like boys, but they'd never been dishonest with her. And she found herself admiring that more than anything, today.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Alistair**_

Ashe looked fuming as she came back from the corridor where Anders' cell was.

"Did he tell you the truth, then?" Alistair asked, hoping that she'd come to her senses about the man.

"If you mean what he did in Kirkwall, yes," she spat. "As for the rest of it, I don't know to be honest with you." She walked past him, clearly done with this place, and Alistair followed. "I still have a hard time believing he is the one who's done this to me, the attacks I mean," she continued while keeping a brisk pace. "That he would have killed Lady Hewlender and Mahariel, and then attacked me... It doesn't make much sense."

Alistair scoffed. "Crazy people rarely make much sense, trust me, I have plenty of experience dealing with their kind. But if it's something I've learned through the years it's that people always want something, lunatics or not. And it's not hard to figure out that he's after you."

Ashe looked at him over her shoulder. "But _why_? He's always liked me, always helped me and cared for me, and..."

"Yes, my point exactly. He wants you," he interrupted.

Ashe let out a humorless laugh. "No he doesn't, belive me. He was like a brother to me, and I like a sister to him. There would have been countless opportunities for him to act on it, otherwise. And he never has."

"Tell me how you know each other."

Ashe sighed as they were stepping out of the fort and the strong rays of the mid-morning sun hit their faces. Alistair's guards, who were following them a few paces behind, stopped at a respectable distance from the pair. Ashe turned her face toward the sky and let the light wash over her as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the cool air fill her lungs. Alistair couldn't help but to admire how beautiful she looked, and found himself wishing that they were somewhere else, just the two of them with no crazy mage and no angry rival of a commander to deal with.

"He came to my estate a few years ago, disguised as a commoner looking for servant's work," she said. "My father employed him, but I could see right away that he didn't fit the part. He admitted to me... well, _lied _to me I guess, that he was actally a noble from Ferelden who's father had tried to force him into a loveless marriage. So he'd fled, rather living the life of a poor man and find true love than be wealthy and miserable. I... I thought it was so romantic. Maker take the stupid, naive girl I was back then."

Alistair could see the hurt flicker across her face as she said the words. It made her look so young and innocent and Alistair was again reminded of that she was still barely twenty years old, but he knew that she'd already had to learn what a harsh and unrelenting place the world could be. Maker, everything that had happened during the Inquisition alone must have added ten years worth of hardship and life lessons to her experience. He found himself almost mourning her lost innocence, although he couldn't quite tell if it was truly for her or for his own, which he'd lost at an alarming rate ten years ago.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Ashe. How could you have known he was lying to you? Blame him instead, taking advantage of you like that. He clearly knew what you wanted to hear and used your family to hide himself from the aftermath of what he'd done, like the coward he is."

Alistair could feel a strong, almost overpowering urge to reach out and touch her. He hesitated at first, not sure if it was a good idea, but he finally placed his hand on her shoulder. He could feel her tense muscles relax underneath his fingertips, and she turned to look at him. Her beautiful eyes were filled with such unexpected affection that he almost regretted touching her in the first place. Because he knew, looking into those eyes, that there was no going back now. If he'd been angry with her, hesitated throwing himself into the drama that came along with her, her enemies and especially with Cullen, he wasn't angry now, didn't hesitate. The longer their silence stretched on, the longer she looked at him like that, the surer he became. Even the pain of thinking about how Mahariel was lost to him made him more reassured. Ashe was the only thing worth fighting for. She was worth _everything_.

The change in the air was tangible. It felt as if the tiniest of sparks would set it on fire and they swayed toward each other. He stared into her eyes, two oceans of endless beauty, before he noticed how she parted her lips unconsciously while they both took a step closer to each other. They were standing so close now that he only had to lean forward and he would be kissing her. He could hear her breathing coming in shorter, more laboured takes and her eyes were fixed on his lips.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

Just as she was about to tilt her head up to meet Alistair's warm lips with her own, a flock of birds launched themselves from the top of the fort. The sound of their flapping wings seemed almost deafening and Ashe looked up at how they flew across the sky and she suddenly realized that morning would soon turn into noon. And she was not where she'd promised she would be.

_Cullen._

She'd said to him that she would be there with him when morning came and she could only imagine his reaction at finding himself alone in bed with no idea where she was. She started turning her head toward Alistair again. "Alistair, I'm sorry, I have to g..."

Her words were cut short when he planted a gentle kiss on her lips. He didn't linger for too long but the kiss left her breathless. So much affection in one simple move, it almost overwhelmed her. He lifted his hand up slowly and caressed her cheek, light as a feather. She couldn't help but to lean her face into his hand and close her eyes, enjoying his warmth.

"Do what you have to do, Ashe. I'll be waiting for you, we have to deal with the prisoner today."

She felt surprised at his first words, surely he knew that she would be headed to see Cullen? Yet he sounded so calm. Maybe he didn't care? But looking at him, seeing his eyes glow when he looked back at her, she knew that wasn't true. But he'd obviously come to some sort of decision to be adult about this. She wouldn't be any worse, then.

"Of course, and I really do appreciate that you let me speak to Anders in private, Alistair. I'll come and see you as soon as... As soon as I am able."

* * *

When Ashe entered her guest quarters, she saw no sign of Cullen. Until he slammed the door shut behind her, making her yelp in surprise.

"Maker's breath, Cullen! You scared the daylights out of me, I..." She silenced when he saw the look on his face.

"I scared _you_? Do you have _any _idea how worried I've been?" His voice was alarmingly quiet. Only the red color of his cheeks gave away how furious he was and Ashe knew it was bad. She wished for shouting and cursing, not this. She knew he only got like this when something vexed him _greatly_. And now that something was her.

"Cullen, I'm sorry, but I had to see the prisoner, it couldn't wait."

"That's horseshit. If someone would have knocked on the door in the middle of the night to tell you about that, I would have woken up. No, you left here by your own volition. Why?" His arms were crossed over his chest and he towered over her, despite him not being that much taller than her. She found herself slowly backing up.

"I- I needed some air, that's all." She looked away from him, she couldn't look at him while she lied. Damnit, why the fuck couldn't she look at him and tell him whatever she wanted, like she could with everybody else?

"_Stop. _Lying to me. For _fuck's _sake, Ashe. Don't fucking insult my intelligence like this. You _needed _to stay here with me, you weren't safe. You'd just been attacked for the second time in one night, Maker!" He raised his voice at his last words as he pointed his finger accusingly at her. "You went to see _him_, didn't you?"

Ashe couldn't say anything, couldn't say that to his face. She looked up and gasped when he crossed the distance between them and had her pressed up against the wall in a heartbeat, without actually touching her.

"You _did, _didn't you? As soon as you were done with me, you ran straight to your precious king and his bedchamber. Did you spread your legs for him, too?" he snarled.

A cracking sound of flesh hitting flesh rang out as she slapped him hard across the face.

"How dare you!" she spat, but Cullen made her bite back her next words in shock as he spit out a trickle of blood from his mouth at her feet and laughed. It sent shivers of the really bad kind down her spine.

"What, are you going to act all indignant now, 'princess'? Oh wait, that's _Hawke's _little pet name for you, right? So what does Alistair call you? Or Anders? I bet he has a pet name for you, too, since he looked at you so adoringly when he appeared in your bedroom out of nowhere last night. Tell me, Ashe, how many men have you had in your bedroom since the one who deflowered you got his fill? Maybe you've set some sort of record for most men fucked without it being your paid occupation. Although I must admit, it's hard to think that it's not."

Ashe felt cold inside. She couldn't believe what he'd just said to her. It was Cullen, her Cullen, but the words coming out of his mouth was not him. He'd always been hot headed and a bit jealous but never disrespectful, nothing even _near_ what he was spewing out now.

She said nothing, and couldn't stop tears from overflowing in her eyes, trickling down her cheeks silently.

Cullen's breathing calmed down and his expression changed when he saw her tears. "Ashe, I..." he murmured, but she shifted her gaze towards the door behind him, staring at it, at anything but him.

"Please move, I would like to leave," she whispered, not trusting her voice not to break if she spoke any louder.

"Ashe, I didn't mean..."

"Please move," she whispered again.

Cullen looked like she'd slapped him again but he didn't say anything, he just stepped to the side.

She took a few unsteady steps towards the door before she stopped, still not turning around. "Just so you know, Anders was like a brother to me. And I've never slept with Alistair." She squared her shoulders, held up her chin and left the room to the sounds of his desperate pleas for forgiveness.

* * *

Ashe sat at one of the balconies to Alistair's private quarters and stared up at the sky. Alistair himself wasn't there yet, but she'd been let in, of course. She'd also told the guards that the Commander was not to be let in to see her under any circumstances. She felt a great many things about what had happened earlier with Cullen. While she might not exactly be virtuous Andraste herself, and she knew she would have to choose between Cullen and Alistair sooner rather than later, that was no excuse for his behaviour. He'd told her that he loved her, that he would do anything to win her heart. And what had he done instead? He'd spewed insults at her, he'd called her a whore. Like she would ever have called him one for sleeping with a bunch of women? Which she was more than certain that he had.

Once again, she thought of how he hadn't shown interest in her until Alistair showed up.

_Alistair._

Alistair who hadn't even called her a whore despite _seeing _her sleep with Cullen, when she even may have deserved it. She wanted to see Alistair now, desperately.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as she heard a knock on the open glass door leading out to the balcony, and she turned around to see a guard standing there.

"Your Worship, Lord Hawke requests to see you. Should we let him in?"

_Hawke?_

Hadn't Cullen said that he'd left only days ago?

She nodded to the guard, who shouted something at the door. He left as soon as Hawke came into view. Ashe stood up and and met his outstretched arms as he walked up to her and embraced her.

"Maker, Ashe, it's so good to see that you're on your feet again," he said and hugged her tightly. She motioned for him to sit down when they let go of each other.

"Cullen told me you left," she said and sat down opposite to him.

Hawke nodded. "The trail was cold and my contacts led me back here again. I hear that you have someone in custody?"

"Yes. But Greyer, you have to promise me to remain calm."

Hawke raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Someone I know?"

Ashe swallowed hard. "Yeah, you can say that again. All too well, I'm afraid."


	20. Chapter 20

_**Ashe**_

Hawke looked at her, his eyebrows raised in question. She just didn't know how to form the words. She didn't know all that much about his relationship with Anders, but she was sure he wouldn't exactly be pleased to hear that Anders - the very same that had instigated the war between mages and templars – was their one and only suspect of Mahariel's murder and the attacks on Ashe herself.

"So, who is it? Maker's breath, Ashe, you're killing me here, who could it possibly be to garner that look on your face?" Hawke asked, his expression growing more and more somber by the second.

"It's... It's someone I thought I knew. But it turns out I didn't." She looked down at her feet, unsure of how to proceed.

"Are you sure I know him, then? I mean, you and I haven't known each other for that long, we don't exactly have many people in common that we kn..."

"It's Anders," she blurted out.

_No point in dragging this out any longer._

When Hawke didn't say anything, she looked up. He seemed... well, stunned would be an understatement.

His jaw hung open in surprise, and she looked at him with worry as she saw how the gears turned in his head, his emotions much more evident on his face than ususal now that he'd been caught off guard.

"Greyer? Say something, please."

"I... How in the dark depths of the Fade do you know _Anders_?" He looked incredulous as he spoke the name.

"He's been living with my family for years. He must have come to us after... you know what. He told me that he was a noble, on the run from an unwanted marriage alliance. We became close."

Ashe didn't think it could be possible for Hawke to look more surprised than before, but she was wrong.

"_Living_? With _you_?"

"He lied to us, to _me. _I'm ashamed to say that I believed him, but I was young and naive, and why shouldn't I have trusted him? He was just a servant then, or at least I thought he was."

Hawke stood up and began pacing back and forth before her on the balcony.

"But I don't understand. He vanished without a trace. One of the most sought out men in Thedas at the time, and you're saying that he's been living in the Trevelyan estate, right under our noses in Ostwick, all this time?" He looked at her and had his hands splayed out in front of him in wonder.

"I... I guess so. Greyer, please sit, you're making me nervous. Don't do anything stupid, please."

Something seemed to dawn on him when she spoke and he kneeled in front of her and took her hand in his.

"Please, forgive me, princess." He touched her hand against his forehead while he stared at the floor.

_What?_

"Forgive you for what, Greyer?" she asked, unsure of herself. Should she have understood what he meant?

He looked up at her and his eyes shone with guilt but also a carefully concealed rage, although she knew it was not directed at her.

"For not putting a knife in that bastard's guts when I should have. I saw him after what he'd done in Kirkwall, and I cut him loose. Told him to get out and if I ever saw him again, I'd kill him. Damn it all to the Fade, why didn't I just kill the miserable son-of-a-whore when I had the chance? If I had, he wouldn't have attacked Mahariel, or you. Maker, if he'd managed to hurt you, I would never have been able to live with myself."

Ashe tugged gently at his hand and pulled him up to sit in his chair again.

"That's nonsense, Greyer, and you know it. He was your friend, before, right? You can't kill a friend just like that, even if they've betrayed you. And in any case, there's no way you could have known what would happen years after."

"Yes, but I might have guessed that it would be a bad, fucking idea to let that crazy murderer escape! Maker damned abomination is what he is. He destroyed the lives of so many people, his _own _people, too. You know how mages have suffered for what he's done. And now this, _you_... My sweet princess," he said and took her hand again and kissed it.

_What's the matter with him?_

Her and Hawke had always been drawn to each other, like some weird mix between lovers and siblings, the best of both worlds without actually being in love. Why was he so emotional now? Maybe the stress over this Anders-situation really got to him.

"Hey, come on, Greyer. We can't even be sure that he's really the one responsible. He swears that he's not, that he's only trying to help me find whoever did it."

"And you believe him?" Hawke looked sceptical, to say the least.

Ashe sighed. "I don't know what to believe. It's so strange, why would he attack me? Why in the world would he suddenly come here and _kill _Mahariel? From what I've heard, they were friends once, no? And attack me? It makes no sense. I've done nothing to him, and he still claims that he loves me."

Hawke's eyebrows shot up at that. "Oh? You mean, like..." He trailed off, seemingly unsure of how to form his question.

"I mean, like a brother. At least I think so. But he didn't exactly seem sincere the last time I asked him."

"Probably because he's in love with you."

Ashe sighed in defeat again. "So people keeps telling me."

"Has there been any more attacks since he was imprisoned? Have you been well?"

Ashe nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't mean..."

Hawke flashed his teeth and made a noise that was something between a snarl and a growl. "I'll fucking kill him."

He moved to stand up but before he had time, the door to the room that was connected to the balcony opened. It was the guard again.

"I'm begging your pardon, Lady Inquisitor, but your Commander is here to see you. He's, uhm... quite insistant."

_Oh, for fuck's sake..._

"Absolutely not. Did you not hear me the first time? I am not to be interrupted." She wanted to shout at the guard and threaten him with telling Alistair how they let Cullen pester her, but that would be childish, and it would do no good for the Inquisiton's reputation for people to know she wasn't currently speaking to her own commander.

The guard nodded, looking down at his feet and bowing while he backed out. Ashe rose and pulled the balcony door almost shut behind the guard, obscuring the view of the room from her vision. She didn't even want to think about Cullen waiting for her out there.

"What was that about, then?" Hawke asked, and Ashe wondered whether she should tell him or not. Anything that distracted him from Anders would be worth it, she supposed.

"Cullen, he, ah... We had a bit of a falling out earlier, to put it mildly. He said... some not so, uhm, kind things to me before."

Hawke watched her intently, his eyes narrowed. "I warned you to be careful, princess, that it could end badly for you to play them out against each other."

"I fucking haven't!" she exclaimed, offended that he blamed her before even hearing her side. "And no matter what I've done, it gives him no right to back me up against a wall, spit at my feet and call me a whore!"

She felt so fucking angry when she thought of what Cullen had said, it took her a few seconds to register how white Hawke's face had become, or how he clenched his fists at his side.

"He did fucking _what?_" His voice was low in his throat.

_Shit shit shit._

"Greyer, you..." she started but he interrupted her immediately.

"I'll kill him, and when I'm done, I'm going to see my old 'friend'", he spat the word, "and I'm going to fucking kill him too, long overdue." He rose from his chair so violently that it flew backwards, crashing into the balcony door just as it opened, while Ashe jumped to her feet and held out her hand in a stopping motion. But she didn't have time to speak before she noticed Alistair standing behind Hawke in the entrance, looking equally as enraged as Hawke.

"Is it true, Ashe? Did that miserable fuck spit at you, did he call you that?" Alistair asked, his tone, again, matching Hawke's low and frighteningly calm one.

Hawke turned around, as surprised as Ashe was to see the King behind them.

Then Ashe saw yet another person behind Alistair.

It was Cullen. And she was not the only one staring at him.

_Shit shit shit shit shit._

The only question now was who would throw the first punch. And fucking Maker, how would she keep them all from killing each other?


	21. Chapter 21

_**Cullen**_

All the emotions he'd tried to suppress on his way here flared up in him as soon as he laid his eyes on Hawke, a nasty cocktail of jealousy, anger and possessiveness. That Alistair would be here, he expected. Alistair he could handle. But now Hawke, too? Hawke – who, like Alistair, was staring daggers at him at that very moment. Was he throwing himself into this game now too? Game wasn't even the right word for it anymore.

This was more like a war, and the consequences could be just as deadly as on the battlefield. For Cullen had no doubt in his mind that the men staring at him hated him just as much as he detested them. Maker take him, he would kill them all if it meant he could have her to himself. He knew Alistair would do the same. Anders too, definitely, that man was even crazy enough to have tried to kill Ashe as well, probably so that no one else could have her.

Hawke, though, Cullen wasn't even sure what he was doing here. And that pissed him off considerably. He remembered how ashamed he'd felt after his verbal attack on Ashe when she'd told him that she'd never slept with either Anders nor Alistair. He'd been so sure that she had.

_But what about Hawke?_

He knew the stakes when he started this game, even told Ashe that he _wanted _to play. But he expected it to be a competition between himself and Alistair, not every Maker damned man she'd ever acquainted herself with.

So because he needed to know, he was the first one to break the silence that was filled with so much tension that you could stick your tongue out and taste it.

"Ashe, I came to tell you how sorry I am about what I said, that I crossed the line. But first you tell me this one thing – since you volunteered the information about Alistair and Anders so quickly. Did you fuck _him_?" he asked and pointed in Hawke's direction, not even looking at the man but keeping his eyes fixed on Ashe, who looked stunned.

The air crackled and Cullen felt something hot flash against the skin of his cheek. Blood trickled down his face and dripped onto the carpet, and he saw Hawke's outstretched hands coming down from the spell he'd worked.

"Don't you say another disrespectful word to her, you crude bastard. As a matter of fact, why don't you just remove yourself from her sight before I hurl another lightning bolt into your fucking face, and not a baby one this time," Hawke said through gritted teeth, evidently fighting to keep his temper under control while the adrenaline from the magic spiked through him.

"Actually, I'd be interested in hearing the answer to that question as well." Alistair had turned his stare from Cullen to Hawke, whom he now regarded with an icy expression.

"Ashe, you don't have to..." Hawke began but Ashe silenced him with a wave of her hand.

"It's alright, Greyer. I'll answer the question" She looked at Cullen and Alistair, who were – ironically – standing side by side. "It really _is _none of your business. But yes, Hawke and I have shared a bed from time to time." Her voice was steady and her head held high.

All Cullen wanted to do was to vomit, or punch Hawke, or shake Ashe until she told him why she did this to him. _Why _did he feel this way about her, when all she did was dancing around him, luring him in, making him think that she was finally his, just to rip out his heart and stomp on it? _Why _did she have to be the most extraordinary warrior, the most beautiful, the funniest, sexiest, _intriguing, _most intelligent bad girl in all of Thedas? And why the fuck hadn't he noticed it before it was too late and everyone else saw it too? If he'd just taken her while she was younger, she'd probably be his adoring, little wife by now – dedicated to pleasing him, and him to her, he was sure of it.

He didn't know who he was more angry with, himself or Ashe. Until he looked at Hawke again. Yes, in that moment, definitely Hawke.

All his rage went into the closed fist that struck Hawke's face with a resounding crack and the mage staggered backwards.

"Cullen, stop it!" Ashe shouted, but before she had time to move and just as Hawke had regained his balance, Alistair followed suit and landed a punch of his own in the mage's face, sending Hawke flying back against the wall. Ashe shrieked in shock and Cullen lifted his eyebrows in surprise. Then the King turned to look at Cullen.

"That was for him sleeping with her. Imagine what I want to do to you, who took advantage of her right after she'd been attacked, and then called her a whore," he snarled and then he moved so fast that Cullen didn't have time to react before he was struck by the other man's fist right where the lightning bolt had hit him. He roared in pain as he felt more of his flesh break and his mouth fill up with blood.

"Alistair, please!" Ashe sobbed, standing in the middle of the room, frantic and holding her hands out in desperation as if willing them all to stop.

Alistair turned to her. "_You _don't get to speak right now, you've said enough. Just because I don't debase myself by calling you nasty names doesn't mean I don't have any feelings about what you've just said. I respect you and your freedom, Ashe, you know that. Unlike this fucking idiot here," he said and pointed at Cullen, who was still clutching his cheek and trying to concentrate on anything other than the pain. "But you know how I feel about you, and how _he _feels about you," he said, still pointing at Cullen. "Was it really nessecary to fuck Hawke as well? Just... don't say another word, you'll only make it worse. I can't deal with this right now."

Tears welled up in Ashe's eyes when she looked at Alistair, who's face was full of disappointment. Even Cullen could tell how badly this had affected his rival. No doubt he was still reeling from the loss of Mahariel and had put all his faith in Ashe, who was breaking his heart as much as Cullen's.

_Good. He deserves it for not protecting Mahariel in his own house. _

And for keeping Ashe from him, he could burn in the Fade for all Cullen cared.

Ashe looked helpless as Alistair exited the room, leaving her with Hawke and Cullen. Hawke had recovered from the blows he'd taken, but Cullen felt a little worse for wear.

"Maker's breath," she murmured when he turned his head towards her. He saw how she caught sight of the damage on his face. It felt like a fleshy mess underneath the hand he pressed against it, and his mouth was dripping with far too much blood.

Hawke looked murderous as he walked up to Cullen. "You and _His Majesty,_" he spat, "are both selfish bastards. Acting so high and mighty, like you _own _her already. Like she isn't a grown woman, free to do whatever the fuck she wants. Why do you think she spends time with me? Because I don't fucking judge her. That's all the pair of you are good for. You damn hypocrites. Like I haven't heard of your little excursion to Emprise du Lion, where a high ranking Inquisition member fucked every red headed girl in the village not even weeks ago. That was you, wasn't it? And the King of Ferelden, who so famously have a whole unofficial harem of girls in his palace. They say he fucks a new one every night. And you have the _gall _to go off on Ashe for sleeping with _one _man, one she knows and trusts, unlike the pair of you who fucks every stranger who flashes her tits at you?"

Cullen felt his face burning from more than his wound. He didn't want Ashe to hear about Emprise du Lion, how the hell had that gotten around so fast?

"And how can you even be thinking about this right now?" Hawke continued. "When Mahariel is dead and Ashe nearly returned to the Maker as well? And you have the bastard responsible in custody. I'm not wasting any more time on this, I'm going to see Anders and figure out what the hell is going on."

Cullen was too busy holding pressure against his wound to answer, and Ashe looked too shocked to say anything at all, so Hawke left unhindered.

The silence in the room was only broken by the unpleasant sounds of Cullen's torn flesh squishing under his fingertips. Ashe stared at the floor.

He didn't know what to say, but he needed to get his cheek sorted sooner rather than later. He turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Ashe whispered. Cullen stopped when he heard how weak and tired she sounded.

"I need to get this fixed. Or I can take myself out of this crazy quest for your heart, because you won't want someone who looks like one of Cassandra's training dummies after she's unleashed her wrath on them after Varric has said something infuriating."

Ashe let out a loud laugh and then covered her mouth as if shocked by herself.

Was she still mad at him? Was he mad at her? Cullen didn't even now, and couldn't think of anything else to say. He opened the door and walked out, his mind an unpleasant mix of pain, joy from making Ashe laugh and images in his head of Hawke fucking the girl he loved.

* * *

_**Hawke**_

He was still furious, slamming each step hard into the ground as he made his way to Fort Drakon. Those selfish pricks, those sad excuses for men. What did Ashe even see in them? It wasn't his business, but she meant more to him than... well. She was like a sister to him.

_Ahh, that's disgusting, man._

You weren't supposed to fuck your sister. She wasn't like a sister. At all. She was just a friend. An incredibly attractive friend. A friend he couldn't keep his hands off. But he wasn't in love with her. She was just a sisterly, no – friendly...

_Screw it._

He shouldn't have reacted so badly to hearing what Cullen had said, Ashe wasn't innocent either. But he didn't care about Cullen. He only cared about her.

_But I have nothing to offer her._

What? Why was he even thinking such things? He didn't owe her anything, they were just friends. And now, he was on his way to see another old friend. But this one, he didn't want to fuck. Him, he just wanted to kill.

* * *

_**Alistair**_

He was so tired. Not just his body, but his mind was exhausted. He'd decided not an hour ago that Ashe was worth fighting for, worth every bit of trouble. But then he'd heard about Hawke and it was like all the air had just left him. He knew it shouldn't affect him, he knew that out of all of them, Alistair himself was the one who'd known Ashe the shortest. But he was the one who loved her the most. He was certain of it. No one else knew her burden like he did, the pressure of the immense expectations the leadership forced on them. And he knew he could make her happy, and she him.

Maker, he _needed _someone who understood him. He needed her. She was the only one, his only option of ever getting what he truly wanted. So he would need to swallow his pride and his hurt and get over it, fast, before Cullen swept in again.

As soon as he'd dealt with Anders, he would double his effort. She _would _be his queen, or he would die trying. But preferably, Cullen would be the one who ended up dead.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

"Fuck!"

It hurt like a son-of-a-whore when the healer worked her spell on his wounded cheek. He sat on a cot in the infirmary and sulked as she pieced him back together, thinking of what had transpired in the last few, completely insane days.

He would have to let this Hawke-thing go. It was time to seriously step up his game, and return to what had worked so well in the beginning of his courtship, or whatever the fuck one would call it. Him seducing her. No matter how worldly Ashe was, she was still only nineteen years old. And girls that age bought any flatter you threw at them. He would show her how much he wanted her. Oh, he'd show her.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Ashe**_

She was sitting on the bed of her lavish guest quarters, feeling numb all over. Since the fight had erupted a few hours earlier, all she'd managed to do was walk here, sit down and feel sick to her stomach.

What in Thedas was she supposed to do now? What a mess she'd made.

Alistair had shown such unexpected aggression. A part of her loved it, even reveled in their fighting over her, it made her feel like a woman beyond her years, passion thrumming in her veins as well as in theirs. But Alistair had been equally as disappointed in her as he'd been aggressive to the others. He'd been angry with _her, _too. And that wasn't good at all. She _wanted _to give him her all, be there for him through this pain over losing Mahariel. And she knew it was unfair, but she felt the sting of Hawke's words when he'd spoken of Alistair's rumoured harem. She didn't want Alistair to even look at another woman. The difference between them, though, was that Ashe had never told him so. She would never dictate how he lived his life if the two of them weren't together, and she wouldn't judge him, regardless of her feelings.

Yes, she wanted Alistair, the exceptionally handsome, charming King who'd swept into her life and turned it upside down, who made her blood hum with desire when he looked at her like she was the only thing in this world worth laying his eyes on.

The problem was, she wanted Cullen just as much. Hawke was right, Cullen was a crude bastard. And what Hawke had said about him and all the girls he'd apparently fucked in Emprise du Lion, she had no trouble believing. But his passion awoke something in her, his bad boy behaviour vexing her as much as it drove her crazy with want. When he wasn't busy yelling at her or managing to piss her off in some other way, like he had a remarkable knack of finding new ways to do, he had the power to make her insides melt into a wet, gooey mess with just one, scorching look or a few whispered words in her ear.

And when he kissed her, he set her world on fire. She could think of nothing else, then, but his hot breath and tongue on her, his hands touching her in _all _the right places while he growled like an animal as she let her hands slide equally sinfully over his skin. And sweet Maker, when he'd taken her in bed – she groaned just thinking about it and fell back on the bed, willing herself to think of anything but that.

But her treacherous body wouldn't let her mind rest and her thoughts went to Alistair, how he'd kissed her, different from Cullen but igniting the same boundless lust in her. How he'd held her quivering beneath him, driving his tongue into her mouth and his fingers into her wetness when he'd been a guest in Skyhold. Maker, from the moment he first looked at her, she'd known she wouldn't be able to resist, even though she already wanted Cullen so much.

And what had she done when she was faced with the impossible in choosing between the two of them? She'd found a third option as soon as they'd both left, letting Hawke distract her from it all.

And Maker's burning breath, how he'd distracted her.

She trusted Greyer with her life. She couldn't even say why, she'd known him barely a year. But there was something about him. A trusted friend, lover and brother all in the same person. She'd trusted him almost from the moment she'd first seen his crooked grin and heard his delightful wit the first time Varric had brought him to Skyhold. That was why she was able to relinquish all control so easily when she was with him. And he didn't want anything else from her, no judging, no demanding. Which seemed to be a rare things these days.

Fade, maybe she'd even let him distract her right now if he were here, loosen up all those tight knots in her body, relax and let the anxiety that was building in her go.

She would...

The door opened and she propped herself up on her elbows to see who it was.

Greyer.

"Oh, for the love of the Maker, you have got to be joking," she muttered and fell back down onto the bed, screwing her eyes shut.

* * *

_**Hawke**_

He heard her mutter something under her breath when she saw him and he raised his eyebrows, trying to keep a smile from his face when he saw her adorable sulking pout before she threw herself back on the bed.

"Not happy to see me, then?" he mused, and ducked when a pillow came flying over his head.

"Why are you here, Greyer?" she asked, still lying on the bed. She sounded irritated but he was sure it wasn't his fault. Mostly, anyway.

"Hey, what's with the attitude, my dear? My name doesn't have a C or an A in the beginning, does it?" he asked, softly, playfully.

She just groaned in response.

There wasa reason he'd come here though. Not _just_ to see her.

"I went to visit Anders."

That finally grabbed her attention and she sat up. "So, how did it go? He still alive?"

Hawke sat down next to her on the bed and shrugged. "Don't know. They didn't let me in."

"Oh. Well, of course they didn't, come to think of it. You didn't have Alistair with you, did you?"

He snorted. "Please. His Royal Ass-ness tried to punch me into the wall, you think he'd accompany me to see my old 'friend' not five minutes after that?"

Ashe shook her head. "I don't know what he would or wouldn't do. I don't know him well enough yet."

She looked, if not sad, very tired. He held out his arm. "Come here, princess."

Ashe looked at him sceptically but her eyes glinted with amusement and she humored him and tucked her head snugly against his shoulder while he wrapped his arm around her. "Are you going to lure me into falling for your wicked ways, now, Champion?" she said, her tone sly but amused.

"Maker, you know I hate it when people call me that! And no, no wicked ways today. If one of your knights in shining armor – literally, princess, I'm the only tasteful exception to your otherwise dubious taste – comes in and finds us, I think I shall lose my head this dreary afternoon. And I'd rather keep it a while longer."

She laughed softly against him and it sent ripples of satisfaction through him. She needed to laugh more, like she used to.

"What am I going to do about this mess, Greyer? The boys, Anders, all of it. It's too much," she sighed.

"Nothing worse then what you've endured with grace this last year, princess. For starters, you need to sort out this mess with Anders. And then, I think you need to leave Denerim. Go back to Skyhold and think about what it is that you truly want." He was stroking her arm while talking, catching himself doing it without thinking about it.

"That'll be hard if Anders is not responsible for the attacks. And Cullen would return to Skyhold with me, he's my Commander. But I don't know what Alistair would say about that."

"It's not his place to say anything about it, nor Cullen's. You need to put your boys in their place, make them understand that you are the one calling the shots. Their obsession with you makes fools out of them, and it drives me crazy."

Ashe looked at him with an amused smirk on her face. "Why?"

"'Cause you're my princess, and they don't treat you with enough respect."

"I'm _yours _now, huh?"

Hawke sighed and rose from the bed and walked over to the table, pouring up wine for himself. "Wipe that foolish grin off your face, Trevelyan. It's so unladylike," he said and ducked again when the other pillow from the bed came flying against him.

He tsked at her. "You almost made me spill my wine."

"That's _my _wine, and you're an idiot."

He took a swig of the red liquid before he picked up the pillow from the floor and threw it back at her. It hit her right in the face.

"You bastard!" she shrieked, but seconds later she laughed in delight when he found the pillow she'd thrown earlier and threw that too. She managed to catch it mid-flight and just made ready to throw it back at him when he let his glass fall to the floor, wine splashing everywhere. He didn't care in the least, all his focus on tackling her. He gripped her hips and pushed her, her back landing on the bed while he straddled her stomach, pinning her wrists above her head.

"I think I won this little fight," he said and smiled.

"And I thought you said you wouldn't do anything wicked today?" She smirked at him.

"What can I say? I'm a wicked man."

He could see her eyes haze over with something other than amusement and he felt how the pulse in her wrist quickened underneath his fingertips. He stared into her eyes and lowered his face until their lips were a hair's width from touching and he took great pleasure in hearing and feeling her breathing growing more ragged.

She started to close her eyes, and he had to seriously restrain himself when he saw the tip of her tongue dart out to wet the center of her delicious lips.

"But not that wicked," he whispered and released her from his grip before standing up, quickly adjusting his breeches, which had grown uncomfortably tight.

"Tease," she muttered and Hawke nearly choked on his intake of air.

"You seriously just called _me _that, Ash-, I mean Your-Majesty-of-driving-men-insane?" he said and snickered.

"Maker!" he yelled as a golden candleholder hit the wall not two inches from the side of his head. "Stop throwing shit at me, you little brat! Now, stop sulking and come with me. We're going to have a little chat with that good old, crazy, murdering fucker your precious King has locked up in his dungeon now."

Ashe came up to him and grabbed him by his collar. "Sure thing, Ser Bossy. But if you ever call me a brat again I'll aim for real the next time I throw something at your head."

He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, yanking him harder against her. "Yes, there will _always _be a next time for me to throw things at your insufferable, stubborn head. So watch it." She released him and he grinned when he saw her press her lips together, trying her hardest not to smile while she opened the door and walked through it.

* * *

_**Anders**_

He heard something move outside in the corridor, the sounds snapping him out of his concentration. He hoped that it was Ashe. She'd told him to send word when he was ready to tell her the truth, as she put it. But she'd either forgotten or ignored that he had no way of doing that, or anything else. He'd tried calling out but none of the guards lining the corridor had so much as turned their head his way.

But now he could hear keys dangling and being fitted into the lock, muted a little by the soft hum of the magical barrier just inside the door.

Anders stood up and brushed the dirt of his robes. It was now or never. He _had _to convince her, his sweet, little kitten.

But standing in the now open doorway wasn't Ashe, but the King himself, flanked by two mages who were working some kind of spell. To his great surprise, the barrier fizzled and burnt itself out, but before he could even wonder why, Alistair had him grabbed by the throat.

"I'll make you pay for what you did to her," he snarled and then Anders saw stars.

Judging by the immense pain in his face, Alistair must have punched him with more than just his fist. There was no time to wonder how bad it was before he blacked out, getting dragged over the dirty dungeon floor by the King's own hand.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

He could feel it like a bead of sweat running along his spine – tickling his senses, like an itch he needed to but couldn't scratch. He felt it in his bones. Something was wrong.

Was that shouting he heard? He started to walk faster through the corridors, towards the sound, straining his ears to hear better.

_Hawke?_

Was he shouting for help?

His heart started beating faster and he ran past the last few bends and corners until he reached the source of the commotion. It _was _Hawke, calling desperately for help. Cullen's blood turned to ice when he saw Ashe on the floor, convulsing before going still in Hawke's arms.

"What the fuck is going on?" Cullen hissed, dropping to his knees in front of them. Maker, she looked completely limp, deathly still.

"I don't know! She just fell to the floor, she was fine and then this happened!"

Cullen touched Ashe's face and his heart skipped a beat when her eyes shot opened and she grabbed his hand.

"One day, I will find you, and"... she whispered but stopped just as abruptly as she'd started. White foam gathered in the corner of her mouth.

"Ashe! Wake up, who did this to you?" Cullen pleaded. Hawke's eyes searched their surroundings frantically.

She whispered something inaudiable and Cullen leaned down and put his ear against her mouth. She whispered the name over and over before she grew silent and her head lolled to the side.

"What did she say?" Hawke asked, sounding just as frantic as he looked. "Maker's mercy, man, you look like you're about to kill someone."

Cullen got up to his feet. "Oh, believe me, I am."


	23. Chapter 23

_**Ashe**_

She tried to open her eyes but shut them again quickly, the onslaught of light blinding her as she coughed up whatever dirt had drifted down her throat. She hurt all over, every bump of the road hitting a sore spot.

Panic threatened to spread through her when she realized what being on the road meant. She tried to move again but felt rope around her wrists. She was tied behind her back. She opened her eyes again, more carefully this time, letting herself become used to the light. She was in a caged wagon of some sort, which was steadily moving forward. She tried to see who was driving it through the bars at the front, but she could only see the back of a hooded figure riding the only horse pulling the wagon.

_What in the Fade happened to me?_

She couldn't remember a thing. She'd been with Hawke, laughing for once. How had she ended up here? A sickening feeling etched itself into her stomach, the creeping fear so powerful that it made her gasp out loud. Not fear for herself, but for the others. She couldn't even imagine what had happened to Greyer, Cullen and Alistair for her to be captured like this. Angry with her or not, she knew they would all probably lay down their lives for her.

She prayed that nothing as dramatic as that had come to pass, but she had no way of knowing.

She looked at the driver again, contemplating if she should call on his attention or not. But if her captor had wanted her dead, surely she'd be just that by now.

"Hey!" she called at him.

The cloaked figure turned his head to the side but she couldn't see his face. He waved his hand and she only had time to curse to herself before darkness took her again.

When she woke up, she found herself, surprisingly, in a room fit for a queen. She felt hazy but shook her head to clear it. The room was bathed in candlelight, and there were expensive looking tapestries decorating the walls, luxurious furniture, exotic decorations, much more than even her own not so modest quarters in Skyhold held. But Skyhold was free of something that this room was not – there were bars on all the windows.

Ashe barely had time to let it sink in and wonder where she was before a voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Do you like it? It's all for you."

Her head whipped around to the door, where Adrian – no, Anders, stood leaning in against the frame.

_How am I supposed to play this?_

She didn't know where she was or really even who was standing before her. If he had truly taken her from Denerim, he was nothing like the man she had once loved like a brother.

"It's beautiful," she said, trying to sound calm and collected. "Although I am surprised to find myself here, as I'm sure you understand."

His brow furrowed and he walked up to her and sat next to her on the bed. She tried not to flinch and pull away when he took her hands in his.

"I know, and I am sorry for all of this. It's for your own protection, so that I can keep you safe from the madman who attacked you," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Ashe tried her hardest not to let the scepticism show on her face. _He _sounded like a madman.

"Did... did you hurt anyone? When you took me?" She couldn't look at him so she kept staring at the floor.

"Kitten... They could never protect you like I can. Look what happened to you while in the King's care, or with your Commander watching over you. Did they stop the attacks? No. Only I can keep you safe. I know this foul magic enough to..."

"Did you _hurt_ them, I said?" This time, she couldn't keep her anger out of her voice. If he had touched a hair on any of their heads, she would fucking have his.

He sighed. "No. They're all safe. I just put them to sleep."

* * *

_**Alistair**_

He cursed himself for being so careless. In a fit of rage, of this immense frustration he felt, he'd dragged Anders out of the dungeons to torture a confession out of him. He'd taken two of his most skilled mages with him to ensure that Anders wouldn't be able to try anything. But after Alistair had knocked him unconcsious, the mages had let their guard down. They told him after, that in the instant that Anders had come to, he must have immediately attacked them all and put them to sleep.

When Alistair woke up, Anders was gone. And when they stumbled upon Hawke and Cullen, lying face down, unconcious, on the floor of a corridor in the castle, he knew that Ashe was gone as well. He could feel it.

He'd let that man take her away and he would never forgive himself for it. But most of all, he would never forgive Anders. Not for taking Ashe, not for killing Mahariel. He would do the opposite of forgiving. He would take pleasure in torturing him before he snuffed the life out of him with his own two hands.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

"Ashe said the words to me herself. She didn't remember before, but he must have attacked her mind right there when Hawke and I were trying to snap her out of it," Cullen said. Hawke, who was sitting in a chair opposite of him, clutching his hand to a wound on his forehead, nodded in agreement. Alistair was pacing back and forth in front of them.

"She said his name?"

"Yes. I asked her, begged her, to tell me who did this to her. And she whispered it in my ear."

"Anders," Hawke all but spat. Cullen nodded.

"We can't tell anyone about this," Alistair said.

"What?" Cullen couldn't believe him. He should have every one of his soldiers out there looking for Ashe right now, but he wanted to pretend like nothing had happened?

"We can't afford to let the public know," Alistair responded. "What would they think if they knew that Ashe had been snatched from under our very noses? After Mahariel... The scandal, the lack of security – it's unthinkable. Not just for me, for Ferelden, but for your Inquisition as well. That you could not even keep her safe..."

Cullen flew to his feet and pointed his finger at the King. "That's _your _doing. She was here as a guest, and you allowed a murderer to infiltrate..."

"Shut up, both of you," Hawke interjected. "Alistair is right. It doesn't matter who is to blame, it would look equally bad for both of you if this got out. Lucky for you, I happen to know the man who's taken our girl very well."

Cullen grimaced at his choice of words. Ashe was _his _girl, not _theirs. _But he couldn't let that distract him now. "Did you know him after he became a raving lunatic as well?" he asked, bitterness seeping into his voice.

Hawke looked grim. "I'm afraid I did. But this time, I won't let him off the hook. I was emotional and blinded by our friendship back then, when I let him go. But _not _this time. Not when he's taken Ashe. We need to go, just the three of us. We need to find them, quickly and quietly. I hate to admit it, but the conquerer of the Fifth Blight and the Commander of the Inquisition – who both happen to be madly in love with the woman we're trying to save - I mean, I could probably do worse in finding men likely to do a damned dedicated job finding her."

Cullen glanced at Alistair, who looked not the least bit amused, but he could see it on the other man's face as well as he felt it himself. Hawke was right.

Maker have mercy on his immortal soul, he would have to work _with_ them.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

Something prickled her senses. She sat up and cocked her head to the side like a cat, straining to hear whatever it was that she felt close. It was too dark to see anything.

Whatever or whoever it was must have snuck up without a sound, because Ashe was not an easy target to stealth around. But she could hear someone breathe very close to her now, and Ashe found herself feeling both ice-cold and sweating at the same time.

"There, there, little dear. Don't be afraid."

Ashe froze, dread seizing her as if death itself had come for her. And maybe it had. Because despite only having met the woman once, she'd know that voice anywhere. It was not one she'd thought she'd ever hear again – because that woman was dead.


	24. Chapter 24

_**Alistair**_

He poked the campfire with a stick. Not because it was needed, but because he had nothing better to do. It annoyed him that they even had to stop at all, but the horses needed rest, and him and his... _companions, _probably did as well, even though the adrenaline of the chase made it harder to notice.

He looked up to see Cullen sweeping the perimeter of their small, makeshift camp, ever the soldier. Hawke was sitting on the opposite side of the fire, skinning a rabbit and humming merrily to himself. Alistair snorted.

Hawke stopped his humming and looked up at Alistair.

"Something you wanna say?" he asked, his thick, black eyebrow raised in amused question.

"How can you be so damn cheery? Ashe is out there somewhere, we don't even know if she's still alive. And you're singing and going on like you're on your way to a cozy, sunday dinner at your mother's house."

Hawke narrowed his eyes at him. "It would be rather more macabre than cozy having dinner with my mother since I would have to dig her up first," he said dryly.

Well, damn. That might have been a bit insensitive of him but Alistair couldn't know that Hawke's mother had passed away. Besides, he hadn't meant it literally, as the other man surely knew. Alistair felt even more annoyed now.

"You know what I mean! Don't you care what happens to her? I can't even eat, I'm so worried for her that it physically hurts me."

Hawke rolled his eyes. "If this is some sort of "who worries in the most obvious way"-competition, then by all means, Your Majesty, you win. Congratulations. But you don't need to imply that I don't care for her. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. But it won't do me or her any favors to sit here and fret like a nervous wreck. Better to stay calm, eat and be optimistic. You should try it. Or who do you think have the best chance of saving her? A tired, underfed and jittery king or a strong, cool-headed one?"

Alistair scowled. "What does me being king have anything to do with it?"

"Everything, I'd say. You really think Ashe would be interested in you if you weren't a royal?"

What the fuck did he mean by that?

"She's interested in _you_, is she not? What are you? Hardly even a noble." Alistair muttered through gritted teeth, trying to stay calm and not shut the man up with a swift punch to the face like he really, _really _wanted to.

Hawke just laughed, making Alistair even more agitated. "I'm a hero, the Champion of Kirkwall, for all the good it ever did me, but still the Champion. I defeated the Arishok, I'm a damned legend in the Marches and beyond. I helped Ashe through the Fade itself. And goldielocks over there," he said and pointed to Cullen who stood out of earshot a small distance away, "he's the heroic Commander of her Inquisition, he helped her defeat the big bad Corypehus and is a vital part of running the operations still. And you, the King of Ferelden. See a pattern here? She only takes an interest in the mighty, the heroic, the _dashing,_" he pulled his hand through his hair dramatically while smiling like a lecher, "the big, strong, powerful..."

"Maker's breath man, stop it! Stop praising yourself, it's making me sick," Alistair pleaded with his hands up in front of him.

"I praised _us_, but I'm glad all of those words immediately made you think of me," Hawke said and grinned even wider.

Alistair groaned. The man was totally and utterly insufferable.

"Why are you interested in her, then?" he asked after a while. "It sounds to me like you consider her a snob for only liking... certain types."

Hawke shook his head. "Why would I care when I actually fit the type? But all kidding aside, I don't consider her a snob or anything like it, it's not that at all. It's that no one else understands her. Tell me, Your Majesty, have you had an easy time finding a woman in these past ten years, who's been your equal? And I'm not talking about titles. I'm mean on a spiritual level. One who understands your burdens, your position, the things you have to do, the sometimes impossible decisions you have to make. Do those kinds of women grow on trees? I think not, since you're still unmarried. It is in all likelihood the same for Ashe." Hawke's expression grew more serious and he even stopped his work on the rabbit. "She needs someone special, because _she's _special."

Alistair said nothing for a few moments. But he couldn't keep himself from asking what was pestering his mind. "Do you think you would fill that need for her?"

The other man kept staring into the fire, motionless. It took a minute or two before he responded. "It doesn't matter what I think. It's not going to happen, so you can relax. The surly Commander is your only competition here."

Alistair felt surprised by that reply. Hawke seemed to like her very much, and Ashe had admitted that she'd slept with him on numerous occations. He had to ask. "Why?"

"Because I have nothing to give her. And I have my own messes to clean up that I will not drag her into. Anders is one mess too many, I could have ended his life years ago but I took the coward's way out and now she has to pay for it. It won't happen again."

"That wasn't your fault. There was no way you could have known he would end up with the Trevelyans, of all the people in Thedas," Alistair said. Hawke looked at him then, surprise evident in his face.

"You, defending me, that's a shocker." He smiled and Alistair rolled his eyes.

"Don't get used to it, you fool. But don't take blame where there is none for you. That can't be the only reason."

"She's too young. Too young for you two as well, but I'm not going to tell her that. She would probably just kick her hind legs out and be even more determined, then. You know why? Because she's _young_, and that's what young people do."

Alistair didn't want to think about that. "She would kill you if she heard you say that," he said.

"Yes, you know why? Because she's y..."

"Because she's young, yes, yes, I get it. Didn't stop you from sleeping with her though."

"She's not _that _young. Sex is sex, and she's well versed in the arts of the bedchamber, let me tell you that," Hawke said and winked. Alistair grimaced but the other man continued as if he hadn't seen it. "But I'm smart enough to know that on an emotional level, I have nothing to give her. I've lived too long, seen too much. And she's so vibrant, full of life. I don't mock her experience, I know she's seen much of both good and evil. But she has this aura about her, full of curiosity and a hunger for excitement. While I could certainly give her the latter, I'm not sure if I'd want to. I would want to keep her safe, if I got any more involved with her than I already am. So a word of caution for you: Don't try to tether her, not even for her own protection. She would come to resent you for it."

Alistair flinched when Hawke stabbed a skewer into the rabbit, he'd been so engrossed in listening to his words, unwilling as he was admitting it to himself. Hawke started humming again, clearly done with the conversation.

Some time later, when the food was ready to be eaten, Cullen joined them by the fire, accepting the bowl of meat that Hawke offered him.

He stared into the fire while he ate. "What if she's dead?"

Alistair wasn't sure if the question was directed at them or if Cullen was just mumbling to himself.

"She's not," Hawke said. "I can sense some of the magic he used on her. It's why I can track them at all. She's alive, or there would be no one to bind in the manner he did." The mage sighed. "I don't even know how Anders knows magic like this. It's so strong, the traces left behind are impossible to hide, though I'm sure he tried. He was never this powerful when he was with me in Kirkwall. Damn shame, or the fighting all those years would have been a lot easier."

That didn't reassure Alistair one bit, except the part about Ashe still being alive. Cullen didn't look much more relieved either.

"When we find her, I'm going to kill that abomination with my own two hands," he said.

"Hey, get in line, man. I think it's obvious that I would be the one to do it," Hawke said.

"There is no damn line, it's just a matter of who gets there first. I _will _kill him, and you'd better not stand in my way," Cullen said, his voice low and threatening.

"Or what, dear old Knight-Captain?"

Cullen gave Hawke a look that promised bloody murder at the mention of his old title before the mage continued. "I'm sure Ashe would be absolutely thrilled to see you attack me first thing when we save her. I should have killed Anders years ago, it's my duty to do it now."

"You..."

"Enough!" Alistair shouted, shutting them both up. He shook his head. "You two are unbeliavable, bickering about this now. Who cares who is the one to slay him? Considering how he put us all to sleep in the blink of an eye, and moved in and out of the castle undetected, with the Inquisitor in tow, we'll be lucky to even stay standing when the fight is done! It's more than likely that one or all of us will die during this. So who gives a fuck about you two measuring your cocks like a couple of youngsters? Ashe won't care. Who knows what that monster has subjected her to by now? If she is, Maker willing, unhurt, I bet she'd be pissed if she's not allowed to kill him herself, if anything."

Hawke actually laughed at that. "You're right, Your Majesty. She would be angry about that, the little wildfire."

Cullen stood up, throwing his bowl to the ground. "Don't talk about her like she's some stupid little girl. She's the Inquisitor, the most powerful woman in the realm, not your "little wildfire", you insolent son-of-a-whore," he spat.

Hawke stood up as well, standing eye to eye with the other man, their large frames all up in each other faces. "Get the stick out of your ass, you bitter old man, or do you want me to shove another one up there since you seem to like it so much?"

Cullen finally seemed to lose what little cool he had left and threw a punch directed at Hawke's face, but all he hit was the blue barrier that Hawke must have thrown up in the blink of an eye.

"Ah-ah-ah, Commander, don't forget who you're dealing with here. I only let you hit me in front of Ashe that once because I wanted her to see what a brute you were. You're not going to do it again," Hawke said, flexing his hand behind the barrier. Cullen only seemed to get spurred on by the mage's words since he started pounding on the barrier.

Sooner of later it would break, and Maker, they did not have time for this now. Alistair grabbed Cullen from behind but before he could even speak, he was rewarded by a fist to his face and he flew backwards and landed with his ass in the mud.

"What the fuck did _I _do?" he yelled and clutched his bleeding nose.

Shit, this was going to be one, long pain in the ass. Quite literally.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Ashe**_

She woke with a start.

How long had she been asleep? Minutes, hours, days, she couldn't tell. After hearing that voice in the darkness, _her _voice...

This time, the room was lit again. Dozens of candles burned throughout the space she was in, the same room as before when Anders had come to see her. He'd left her to 'calm down' as he put it, after she'd asked him if he'd hurt her friends. She must have fallen asleep after that, and dreamed or imagined that voice telling her that there was nothing to be afraid of.

She must have imagined it, because Lady Mahariel was dead. She wouldn't be speaking to anyone anymore.

Ashe shook her head to clear it, and got up to examine her surroundings some more. The room was remarkably like the one she'd had in her childhood home, the Trevelyan estate, except this was more luxurious. Of course, there was nothing shocking about the resemblance if Anders was responsible for setting it up, seeing as he knew what her old room looked like and what she liked.

The more pressing question was what he intended with the setup. To make her feel at home? The bars on the windows sort of killed that feeling. And the Trevelyan home wasn't hers anymore. Skyhold was her home. She could never go back to what her life was before the Inquisition. She didn't know what sort of illusions Anders harbored about that. They'd been like brother and sister - in secret of course, since her family would never allow her to mingle so casually with a servant. Then the day had come when she'd been tasked to represent her family at the Conclave, and she never returned home. She had no idea what Anders had been up to during all this time.

Well, she had some notion, considering how prepared this place seemed. She needed to get more information out of him and plan her next move. She couldn't count on anyone coming to save her. Anders might have claimed that he'd left Cullen and the others unharmed, but considering everything else that he'd lied about, she wasn't about to take his word on that, no matter how much it hurt to think of the implications if he was lying.

She needed to save herself, and what of it? It wouldn't be the first time. There was no point in feeling sorry for herself.

She decided that the best course of action would be to be friendly with him. Not overly so, lest he become suspicious that it was all an act, but in moderate doses, to find out what he wanted from her.

She looked herself over in the mirror on the vanity and smoothed out her hair, splashed some water from the basin in her face to freshen up and donned one of the dresses hanging in the closet. She looked in the mirror again.

_Not half-bad._

She had of course considered the possibility that Anders was doing all this because he was in love with her. If he was, he'd been a very good actor during the time they spent together, since she'd never gotten any indication that he'd been interested. He hadn't been jealous when she'd had trysts with various men in the estate, and then there was that time when she'd practically offered herself up to him on a silver platter. She'd been horny and he was handsome and made her laugh, so she'd waited for him in her room, wearing nothing but Orlesian underwear when he came for his regular cleaning round. He'd chatted on as usual, like he didn't even notice her appearance, while he cleaned, and then cheerily bade her goodnight and left, leaving her looking at the closed door, dumbfounded.

Ashe shook her head at the memory. Men jumped at the opportunity to fuck her, they always had, and to be turned down like that, looking like she had – young and ripe for the taking, red lips and black lace – it had stung her self-confidence. But she'd gotten over it after a while, accepting that he didn't feel that way about her, and now it was so deeply rooted in her that she had a hard time imagining anything else.

But she couldn't think of another reason for him to do this. He said he wanted to protect her, but to snatch her away from her life and lock her up in this place that he'd clearly -

_Wait._

Ashe looked around the room again. This was all too well prepared. Everything that had happened recently – Mahariel's death, the attacks on herself, it had all happened so fast. Why did Anders have this place ready, why had he even showed up at the castle, if he wasn't the one responsible for it all?

Up until now, she hadn't really believed in her heart that he could have done this to her.

Now, she wasn't so sure. Maker's breath. She would really have to put on a show for him to buy that she believed him.

* * *

_**Some time later...**_

She sat opposite Anders, eating bread and cheese from the table between them. When he'd come to see her, she'd noticed how his eyes had widened for just a fraction of a second when he caught sight of her, before controlling himself. She would have never noticed it if she wasn't looking for signs. What it meant, she couldn't be sure, but she could guess that it was because she looked cleaned up, relaxed, and – considering the dress she'd chosen – like the daring woman she was used to being now, not the girl he remembered.

He probably hadn't expected that. But she kept to her original plan of being polite but not too hands-on. And it seemed to be working. As the hours passed, they talked about this and that, drank wine and almost fell into their old, easy companionship. Well, at least Anders did. Ashe acted like she did too, but it wasn't hard to fake it, she had to admit. Some moments she almost forgot that he was a potential enemy.

None of them talked about what had happened to lead them both here, until Ashe brought up the dream she had earlier.

"I could have sworn that it was Mahariel. But it was just a dream, of course. Just so vivid," she said.

Anders expression grew serious.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Ashe. Warden Commander Mahariel, she... she's not dead."

"That's not funny, Anders."

"I mean it. She was attacked but I saved her."

Ashe was stunned. Either he was absolutely bonkers to expect her to believe that or...

"Come on, you don't really think I'm going to believe that? They saw her with their own eyes, Alistair buried her for Andraste's sake!"

"They entombed her, true. But I got her out. I put a spell on her, it only looked like she was dead. It was the only way to save her from the attacker, he was after her as well as you. That woman saved my life more than once, I had to return the favor."

"But, wh- I mean... How... Why didn't you tell me right away? We've been talking for hours Anders, and what, it just slipped your mind?!" She got up and started pacing back and forth in front of him.

"I didn't want to shock you, that's all."

He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.

"Well, that failed miserably! Was she here, in my room? It wasn't a dream?"

"Yes. She just wanted to comfort you, to let you see for yourself that she was alright. She said that the shock must have made you pass out."

_What?_

Ashe wasn't some delicate, frilly-skirted noblewoman, a surprise, even a big one, wouldn't make her pass out. And why would Mahariel even care about her? She'd met the woman once, and her motives for that meeting were still wholly unclear to Ashe.

"That..." She wanted to say 'that doesn't make any sense.' But thought the better of it. "I guess I understand. So where is she now, then?"

"Not here any longer, I'm afraid. She wasn't safe here."

"Safe from what, Anders? And why are we here if it isn't safe?"

"I can only keep you hidden, kitten, not both of you. I don't have endless resources, I'm afraid. She's off to investigate on her own. Maybe she's even on her way to King Alistair as we speak."

Ashe clenched her fists. If Alistair saw that Mahariel was alive, he wouldn't even look at Ashe again. She was sure whatever had gone down to destroy the relationship between him and the Hero would solve itself if they met again. Believing someone to be dead tends to put things into perspective.

She knew it was petty, to think only about herself when this was actually happy news, for Alistair and for Cullen, who seemed to be close to Mahariel as well, for whatever reasons. But let her be selfish, then. She didn't trust that woman, she didn't even know her. Who knew what she would tell Alistair, or Cullen, when she reunited with them?

And Ashe was stuck here, with a man who's intentions she still couldn't figure out.

She had to take control of whatever she could, and right now, that was Anders. She'd take him.

She sank down into her chair again and looked at her feet.

"Would it be terribly weak of me," she said with a small voice, "to admit that I'm tired? Tired of being strong, of cleaning up everyone else's messes. I miss the simpler days of Ostwick, when I was just a young girl and you were just Adrian." She looked up at him through her lashes. "Is it weak to admit that my mind throws away all the suspicions that's surrounded your return, simply because I miss you?"

Anders didn't say anything for a few moments, but his eyes were big as he stared at her.

_Just another little push._

A tear fell from her eye and she made a display of trying to hide it, like she was ashamed. "I don't even know why you came to save me, Anders. I didn't even think you cared for me."

He got up to his feet at that, and walked over to her and kneeled before her, taking her hands in his. "Look at me, kitten."

She made a show of refusing before he urged her again and she seemed to comply reluctantly.

"Don't you ever say that again," he whispered. "I love you, I always have."

"B-but you didn't want me. You can't have been so blind that you couldn't tell that I wanted to be with you," she said, rolling her eyes at herself inwardly at the dramatic display.

"For Andraste's sake, kitten, you were what, sixteen, seventeen years old? I'm not a monster, despite what people say about me. You've always been beautiful, but I couldn't look at you like that, then."

Ashe wiped her tears away with one hand before returning it to Anders.

"I'm not that young anymore. I've seen so much, and I'll be twenty years old in less then a fortnight. Maker Anders, it feels more like thirty."

He laughed a little at that and she gave him a sad smile.

"I wish I could have been there for you, kitten. When I heard about the explosion... I thought you were dead, your whole family thought so. When I heard that you'd survived, become the Herald of Andraste, Maker... I left to find you right away, but the war... And I was a wanted man. I just couldn't get to you."

He looked so sincere, Ashe didn't know what to think. Of course, it was possible that he meant what he said and was still responsible for all the horrible events of the last week. Insane people tended to be unpredictable. But he didn't look insane now. He looked like he was filled with adoration.

Then again, crazy stalkers usually were just that. She just couldn't know yet.

_Stick with the plan._

She put her hand against his cheek and caressed it lightly. "Oh, how I wish you would have been there with me. You've no idea how much I've missed you."

His eyes were wide again and she could hear his breathing quicken slightly.

He kissed the palm of the hand she had against his cheek. "If it's even a fraction of how much I've missed you, kitten..." he breathed, and she leaned towards him slightly, exposing more of her bare skin to him and bringing her face closer to his.

"Please, Anders..." she whispered.

* * *

_**Anders**_

Hearing his name uttered from her lips like that – reverently. It was more than he could ever have dreamed. He'd always resisted looking at her as anything more than a sister, no matter how much she'd tempted him, no matter how much it had galled him when she ran around with those vile beasts of men who'd used her when she was barely more than a child.

But she was a child no more. She was here, in his arms and he couldn't stop himself. He'd finally got her out of evil's clutches, away from the people who wished her no good, who only wanted to use her.

He would take care of her now, protect her. He hadn't counted on her seeing his side of things so quickly, but it was obvious now, after she'd confessed how much she had missed him, that he didn't have to hold himself back any longer.

She was right in front of him, beautiful as a siren, the delicate, milky skin of her shoulders and cleavage exposed to him, her hot breath so close that he felt it warm his skin. Her lips unconscoiusly parted, just waiting for his lips to close over them.

When he put his hand around her neck and gently pushed her towards him and met her with a kiss, he lost all control. His senses exploded with the taste of her and his magic erupted, sending things whirling around the room. He almost broke the kiss to calm himself when the sweetest sound he'd ever heard came out of Ashe's mouth – a small moan of pleasure. It was enough to send him straight into the point of no return.

* * *

_**Hawke**_

He awoke abruptly, the magic surging through his veins. He shot to his feet and scrambled for his armor. Alistair woke up from the commotion, and Cullen – who'd been sitting poking the fire, keeping watch – stared at him like he'd just sprouted horns.

"What happened?" he asked.

"A strong burst of magical energy somewhere not too far from here, but it's fading quickly. We must leave now, while I can still sense it!" Hawke said, more than a little excited. This was their first lead in days, ever since the last traces of Anders' magic trail had gone cold.

"What do you think triggered it?" Alistair asked, already fully awake and putting on his armor.

"I have no idea. I hope she's fighting him with all she's got," Hawke said before he leapt up into the saddle on his horse. "Whatever she's doing, it's damn well working!"


	26. Chapter 26

_**Anders**_

His stomach dropped when Ashe pushed him away, depriving him of the softness of her lips. He took a deep breath and focused his energy, that had up until now coursed freely throughout the room, sending everything into a swirling mess. Books and trinkets dropped to the floor around them as his magic stilled, but he barely noticed, his eyes entirely focused on Ashe. She held her hand over her mouth and refused to look at him, staring at the floor instead.

Maker, how he wanted to take her doubts away, smother them until there was nothing left of them. He would smother the whole damned world if it meant she would believe him.

"Ashe..." he said and took a step towards her, but she held out her hand to stop him and he stilled. She turned her back to him and stared out the barred window.

"Please don't, Anders. I... I need some time to process this, I need to breathe."

He nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him.

Of course, of _course _that was what she needed. He left the room quietly, closing the door softly behind him.

_She can take all the time she need, _he thought while he whispered a spell and put a ward on the door.

_She's not going anywhere._

* * *

_**Ashe**_

_Shit._

Maybe she had overdone it?

She swore to herself again as she began pacing around the room, picking up things that had fallen to the floor, just to occupy her hands.

She shouldn't have told him that she missed him, she shouldn't have cried. That implied too much emotion, that there was a real possibility that she could fall in love with him. She shouldn't have spurred him on like that.

She should have seduced him instead. She should have filled her eyes with lust, licked her lips with desire and she would have had him on his knees, begging her. Then she would have been in control.

Men who wanted sex were predictable, easy to control. Men who fell in love... they were not.

She snorted in self-disgust when she thought about what a weak, snivelling mess she must have looked like.

But on the other hand, perhaps it was for the best that he thought she was docile. Then he wouldn't expect her to try to escape from him.

She sat down in front of the fire and stared into it.

_What if he's telling the truth?_

If he was, he'd saved her. Even though she would never forgive him for taking her against her will, at least it meant that he hadn't betrayed what they'd once shared. But there were so many things that didn't add up.

Ashe sighed and rubbed her temples. She really hadn't lied to him when saying that she needed to process all of this. Until she could figure something out, she would continue to pull him closer. If he was lying, she would use him and escape and then he would pay for what he'd done. If he was telling the truth, then what difference did it make? Maybe he'd have a broken heart by the end of it, but she could live with that.

Still, it stung to think about being the one to inflict pain on him if he was really just trying to save her. Even if it had been a lie, the time they'd spent together was not easily forgotten. All the times he'd made her laugh, supported her when her cold and selfish family had pestered her...

Maybe it wasn't too late to change her tactics into something a little more aggressive, something more... carnal. She could play off her previous display as confusion and fatigue, and having her confidence back now wouldn't seem so strange, after she'd had her 'time to think'.

He seemed to go all puppy eyes on her when she was a sobbing mess, so maybe he wouldn't be as receptive if she showed him the woman she'd become. She had no doubt that she could wrap him around her little finger in this way too, but maybe it would spare him the utter heartbreak later.

Yes. That would have to do.

* * *

_**Some time later...**_

There was a knock on the door and Ashe took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror one last time. With a soft voice, she called for her visitor to come in.

The door opened and she looked over her shoulder to see Anders enter. She smiled when she saw how his eyes widened at the sight of her. She gathered the long, black satin on the bottom of her dress in her hands and turned around. She didn't miss how his eyes flickered to her exposed cleavage, the corset-like top of the dress working its magic, before he looked at her face. His lips parted slightly when she came closer to him, no doubt taken in by the effect the red lipstick and the black kohl around her eyes had. Still, she didn't close the distance between them just yet. No, that wouldn't do at all. She had a feeling Anders wasn't as straight-forward as her other boys. Hawke, Alistair and Cullen for instance, they knew what they wanted. But she could see the conflict behind his eyes. It wasn't that she doubted his self confidence, she bet he'd been quite the ladies man once, judging by his looks. The problem was what he'd told her himself earlier. He'd been there when she was - what he thought at least - a child. Making him forget all about that would take some coaxing, even though he'd shown her with that first kiss that he was already on his way to breaking.

"If I didn't know any better," he said, "I'd think there was some sort of ball or other grand occasion that I've missed the invitation to. You look like a queen, Ashe."

_Oh, dear, look at him._

Composed now, with his hands clasped behind his back, standing straight as a knight, a soft smile on his face.

And she didn't look like a queen. She looked like a very, _very _expensive courtesan, and they both knew it.

"Well, if I'm going to stay here and you leave me with nothing better to do but to play dress up..." She spun around, her dress flowing around her since it had two deep slits on either side, going all the way up to her hips. "Or do you mean to tell me you didn't leave these dresses in my closet for me to wear?"

Anders cleared his throat a little. "I didn't exactly... I acquired this place from the previous owner with everything still in it. They were desperate for money and left in a hurry."

Ashe stopped twirling and cocked her head to the side and looked at him, a small smile playing at her lips. "Oh, really? Well, you don't mind, do you?"

"No, no, of course not. Everything is yours."

"I rather like this one," she said and let her leg slip out through the slit. "But if you think it's too much, I can..."

"No, no, keep it on, kitten. Whatever makes you happy."

_Yeah, sure that's why._

She smiled at him and sat down in front of the fire, picking up an empty cup from the table beside her and holding it out towards him.

"Didn't you bring any wine? If we are to _talk_, perhaps we both need it," she said.

He swallowed visibly and slipped out the door. He was back not two minutes later with two bottles of Antivan red.

Ashe put on a delighted expression. "My favourite! You remembered."

Anders smiled warmly and poured them both a generous amount. "How could I forget, you made me smuggle countless of these from the kitchen to your room." He sat down opposite to her and sighed. "Ashe, about before..."

"If you're going to apologize, I won't hear of it, Anders. I was just tired and confused, you sprung a lot on me. But I've had some time to let it sink in now. And I am very greatful to you, even though I'm not exactly happy over the fact that you drugged me or bound me with some spell or whatever the Fade you did back in Denerim, to get me here. But I know that you just want to protect me."

He looked at her so intently, it almost made her squirm a bit in her chair. "Always," he said, voice filled with emotion.

"Can we have tonight to just not... talk about any of it? It's been so crazy lately... I just want to enjoy your company and have some fun."

His eyes glinted and he gave her a charming smile. "I would love that."

Damn, he was handsome. She wondered how many women he'd managed to get into bed with that smile.

"Maker, it's so hot in here," she said and fanned herself with her hand. It really was, even though she was barely clothed.

Anders laughed. "Yes, it tends to be warm when you're sitting that close to a fire. Come here, sit a little further from it and you'll be alright. Wouldn't want you fainting on me." He patted the seat next to him on the sofa he was sitting on.

"Why does everyone assume I'm going to faint about every little thing?" she asked while getting up and sitting next to him, her wine in hand. She smiled and he returned it, and they both drank deeply from their cups to avoid having to say anything. She drank a little too fast and spilled some of the red liquid on her bare leg.

"Shit." She stared at the wine trickling slowly over her skin, and she wasn't the only one staring.

She pretended she didn't notice him looking.

"So, who was the owner, before you I mean?" she asked, as if nothing had happened.

"It's, uhm... I was some Lady or Lordling or whatever. Are you not going to, uhm, clean that up?"

"It doesn't really matter, I'm dirty anyway. Hadn't had a proper bath since Denerim."

"Maker, I'm sorry kitten, hadn't thought about that. I'll conjure up a bath for you whenever you like, just say the word."

"Well, now would be nice," she said sweetly.

"Now? But I thought you said you wanted my company."

"Yes, I do. Fix me a bath, sit and talk with me while I clean myself up and then we'll have some dinner, what do you say?"

His look said it all.

Ten minutes later, she slipped out of her dress while his back was turned and sank down into the hot water. It was heaven.

_Now work this, _she told herself.

"You can look now, water's up to my chin," she said. She closed her eyes so that he could look at her as much as he wanted without worrying about her seeing. She could hear him settle in a chair next to the tub.

"This is divine," she purred. He said nothing. She reached up and rubbed her neck, lifting herself so that her breasts almost broke the surface of the water. Anders was still quiet.

She opened her eyes slowly and smiled at him. He was looking at her face, no doubt having adjusted his view half a second before. She sank down again and pulled her leg up and rubbed the other leg with her foot, seemingly to scratch an itch but it was all a show for him, of course.

"Did you swallow your tongue, Anders? You're being very quiet."

"And you are very beautiful. And I don't exactly have a wide range of topics prepared for things to speak about when watching beautiful women bathe."

"Oh, so you think I'm 'very beautiful', do you?" she smiled.

Anders rolled his eyes. "You know I do, kitten. And I happen to know that you think I'm the most handsome man in all the Free Marches," he said and couldn't keep a grin from his face.

"Do not!" she laughed and splashed water on him.

"Hey!" he protested.

"Besides, we're not even in the Marches now, are we?" she asked, trying to slip the question in casually.

His smile vanished and he looked towards the window and didn't respond.

_Shit. _

She held her hand out to him to distract him. "Help me out of the bath?"

He returned his eyes to her. "Uhm..."

"Oh, relax, you stiff. Just give me your hand and look away then if I make you uncomfortable."

He did as she asked and pulled her out while looking to the side, but she had no doubt he could see the contour of her naked body in the corner of his eye. She slipped into a sheer, black robe, not even bothering to dry herself first. She took a large sip of wine and then turned towards him.

"You can look now."

He turned around to face her and almost fell backwards in doing so when he looked at her.

She was dripping wet and the water soaked through the already sheer fabric of the robe in several places.

"Maker's breath Ashe, are you trying to kill me?" he exclaimed, his voice strained.

"What? Drink some more wine Anders, and relax a little."

He emptied his cup in one, big gulp and poured himself some more. While his back was turned to her, she crept up behind him and put her hand down into the tub and proceeded to splash him with a handfull of water.

"Hey!" he yelled again. "You're going to pay for that!"

She laughed at his semi-soaked appearence and laughed even harder when he grabbed her wrists and pushed her against the tub, holding her hands down to her sides.

She stopped laughing when she felt his body press against hers and her robe slid open.

* * *

_**Anders**_

She was wet and practically naked against him.

If there had been any resistance left in him before, it shattered when she leaned up and kissed him and he gave into the sin. Her skin was hot against his hands, which had now released her wrists and found their way to her naked hips. She moaned into his mouth when his thumb stroked her hipbone and the sound made him dizzy with want, and he slipped his tongue into her willing mouth. He felt her hands snake around his back and tug at the buttons of his robes, and he was so hard already. The need for her consumed him, he desperately needed to be inside her, to claim her, this beautiful, little kitten.

He pushed her wet robe off her completely, tearing it in his excitement, and stared down at her body, wanting to worship every inch of her. She was so fucking sexy, and she was his now. It was enough to almost make him laugh out loud, the absurdity and the joy of it all.

He carefully lifted her up to sit on the edge of the tub just as her fingers expertly undid the last button that locked his body away from hers, and soon he was as naked as she was. He threw his head back and groaned when he felt her hand caress his stomach and creep lower until she wrapped it around his painfully hard cock. Waves of pleasure surged through him when she moved her hand – up and down, deliciously up and down. He barely noticed when she slid down from the edge of the tub to kneel on the floor, until he looked down and watched with bated breath how she reached for the head of him with her tongue and licked him like the little kitten she was.

No, he shouldn't think like that... His sweet, little girl, she shouldn't be on her knees like this...

He lost the train of thought as she engulfed him in her warm, wet mouth and swirled her tongue around him expertly. Far too expertly.

"Fuck," he whispered when she took him all the way down into her throat.

No, no, no, she was his sweetness, she shouldn't be sitting there like some whore who -

He tried to push her away, weakly, and she looked up at him and licked her lips.

"Let me take care of you, Anders," she murmured. "I know what I'm doing."

Images of her doing this to the Maker knew how many men before him lodged itself into his mind and he couldn't fucking get rid of them. It wasn't supposed to be like that. No matter what she'd done, he'd always thought of her as his little sister, his little kitten. But he couldn't, now that he saw with his own eyes what she could do. Why did she know how to seduce him like this?

"No, get off me!" he roared and pushed her away so forcefully that he sent her flying into the side of the tub. His vision blackened and he could feel lightning crackle at the edge of his fingertips. When he heard her scream, he shook his head and his vision became clearer.

He put his hand over his mouth in horror when he saw what he had done.

Ashe sat on the floor against the tub, her legs up in front of her and her hands against her face. She was bleeding from so many places. He must have struck her with the lightning as well as the impact from hitting her head against the tub.

He reached out his hand to her but forgot about the residue of lightning in his fingertips and he sent a bolt flying, cutting across her collarbone. Hearing her gasp in pain was more than he could take. He couldn't watch this, couldn't watch what he'd done.

So he turned around and fled, like the fucking coward he was, just like Hawke had told him before he let him go from Kirkwall.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

He stood outside the massive house with the tower, in the middle of some Maker forsaken forest, with Hawke and Alistair. They'd arrived here yesterday, hot on the trail of the magical surge that Hawke had felt. This was definitely where it was coming from, but unfortunately they couldn't for the life of them get through the magic surrounding the place. So now, they just stood here and watched, trying to figure out what to do. Hawke had his eyes closed and was muttering incantations or spells or some other gibberish, while Alistair eyed the building itself. Cullen searched desperately for signs of Ashe through the windows, but no lights had shown the entire time they'd been outside.

As far as Hawke could tell, there were two active and massive barriers surrounding the house. The first about fifty yards from the house itself, and then another etched into the walls of the house. Hawke was putting all his strength into disabling the outer one, hoping that perhaps Anders wouldn't notice that one, and then he could rest and start working on the second barrier.

Cullen was going mad with worry, and it was beyond frustrating to know that she was in there and he was right outside, unable to do shit about it.

Maker, if Ashe got out of there alive, he swore that he would never yell at her again, never be angry. He just wanted her to be safe.

After hours of standing beside Hawke, who was working on the barrier without ever stopping, Cullen couldn't take it anymore.

"Maker knows what that lunatic is doing to her right now. If he's the one who left all those notes in the palace, about how he would find her and... Andraste, what if he's _doing _something to her against her will? Fuck, if he's touched her or hurt her in anyway..."

Alistair came up beside him. "Keep your voice down and let Hawke work in peace. And don't think like that. You'll drive yourself mad. And if he _has _touched her against her will..." Alistair put his hand on Cullen's shoulder. "If he's done _anything _to her, we'll take turns tearing him apart piece by fucking piece."

Surprising himself, Cullen didn't immediately shake Alistair off, but instead tried to find comfort in knowing that with him and Hawke working with him, Anders would never get away with what he'd done. Say what he would about them, but the men beside him had never made Ashe do anything she didn't want to.

An hour or two later, Hawke collapsed to the ground. Alistair and Cullen leapt forward to catch him and hold him up.

"It's done," Hawke said, his voice rough with the strain of over twentyfour hours work. "The outer barrier is down. One of you have to stay here and watch over me, I'm afraid, because I'm afraid I might actually fucking die if you don't help me drink, piss and sleep now. But one of you should approach the house and see if you can discover anything about where he's keeping Ashe. It's safe to touch the walls but you won't be able to get in."

Cullen stood up and Alistair nodded to him while still holding Hawke's head up. Cullen then moved as quietly as he could towards the house. When he was about ten yards away, he swore quietly when the light of a candle appeared in the window closest to him on the bottom floor, and he was sure that he'd been discovered. But when nothing happened, he dared to venture closer. It was dark outside so if the person inside didn't know he was out there, he probably wouldn't be seen, the light inside would be too bright.

As he got closer, Cullen could see that the window was actually open, but there were bars on it. He heard clattering noises from inside as he flattened himself against the wall next to the window. He took a deep breath and then peered over the edge.

Maker's breath, someone was moving in there. Someone on the floor, dressed only in a torn up robe. There was so much blood on her face...

"Ashe?" he whispered, hoping yet not hoping it was her.

The woman startled and clutched her bleeding hand to her robe, abandoning the bandages that she'd been trying to apply to herself.

"Who's there?" she whispered.

_Please, please, don't be as bad as it looks._

"Ashe, it's me, Cullen. Maker, love, what did he _do?_"

_Fuck, look at her! I'll fucking kill him, slowly, I'll rip his fucking head off!_

"C-Cullen? Is it really you?" Ashe stood up on unsteady legs and stumbled towards the window. Tears fell down her face, barely streaking the dried up blood covering it. She put her hand up against the bars and he tried to touch her but the force of the barrier made it impossible. "Please, tell me that you can get me out of here," she whispered and it killed him, _killed _him to see her like this. And worse, he couldn't tell her what she wanted to hear.

"We're doing everything in our power to get you out, love. Hawke and Alistair are with me, and Hawke just managed to break one of the barriers, but there's one still surrounding the house. It's going to take some time. Now you tell me, what the fuck did he do to you?"

"He... I don't know, he just snapped and sent me flying and then he attacked me with his magic. I was defenseless, that's why it looks so bad... And he just ran out after that, and I've no way of healing myself. Haven't found one, lousy potion in this entire damn place, either."

He looked down at her torn clothing and let out a quiet growl. She must have seen the look on his face because the next moment, she tried to reassure him. "I-It's not as bad as it looks, Cullen, I'll manage, I promise. You have no idea how good it is to see you."

She put up her hand against the bars again and he met it with his own, even though they couldn't really touch. He felt a few tears press themselves out of his eyes when he saw again what a mess she was. Cut, still bleedning in several places. The near naked state of her – he couldn't even think about the reasons for that right now.

"I will kill him for you, and then I'll fucking bring him back to life and kill him again, and again, and again," he said, his jaw tight with anger.

"I know you will," she said softly, and the way she looked at him, like she knew she could depend on him – he would not let her down. "Did... did you see Mahariel?" she asked.

"What?" Anders must have smacked her harder in the head then she let on.

"Uhm, never mind. Just get me out of here, please?"

"I swear to you that we will, soon."

Ashe snapped her head around, clearly hearing something from inside.

"You need to go, now!" she hissed at Cullen, and he ducked to the side of the window. As much as it killed him, he had to move away from the house, towards the others. He couldn't risk Anders looking out and spotting him.

But when _he _got his hands on Anders, that abomination would wish he'd never been born.


	27. Chapter 27

**Trigger warning for the second half of this chapter as it contains a graphic non-con scene.**

_**Ashe**_

Her heart was drumming so hard in her chest that she could feel herself shaking from it, from the exhilaration of seeing Cullen, knowing that he and the others had come for her, but also from fear. She wasn't alone in the room anymore.

A mere moment after whispering desperately to Cullen that he had to leave, Anders had entered.

That motherfucker. She just wanted to hit him. But she knew from experience that it was stupid to engage a mage in a fight alone. She didn't even have her sword, or her armor. A skilled warrior she might have been, but not a stupid one.

"Who were you talking to?"

His voice was strained, but with what, she couldn't tell, as she was far too nervous and injured to be her normal, perceptive self.

"Only to myself, I was just trying to find something to patch myself up with." She tried to sound steady, desperate to not betray Cullen's recent presence.

"Found much in the window, did you?"

He sounded so cold. Maker's breath, what was wrong with him? She was bleeding, barely able to stand up and it was his doing. Who was this person? It was not her Adrian.

"I just wanted to look outside, I haven't seen the sun in..." She trailed off when he closed his eyes suddenly.

She yelped in surprise when he snapped them open again and grabbed her arm, hard enough to leave bruises. He started dragging her out of the room and up the stairs, ignoring her protests and cries of pain when she stumbled or hit the wall and the railing on the way up.

"Anders, please, stop it!" she sobbed. It really fucking hurt.

"I take you here, I _save _you, and this is how you repay me?" he yelled while he dragged her into 'her' room and threw her down to the floor. She scrambled backwards into a corner with her back to the wall so that he couldn't come at her without her defending herself.

"Anders, please calm down! I don't know what you're talking about!"

He narrowed his eyes at her and she flinched back when she saw how dark and manic they looked.

"Do you think I'm stupid? That I wouldn't feel that someone disabled one of the barriers?"

_Shit._

She needed to buy the boys time. Cullen had said that Hawke needed to disable one more barrier before they could get to her. If Anders knew that there were only three of them out there, maybe he would decide to be pre-emptive and attack them, and she couldn't allow that. She didn't know how powerful Anders was.

She let her tears stream down her face harder than before, digging her nails into one of her wounds out of his sight.

"Why are you doing this to me, Anders? You were kissing me, telling me how much you wanted to be there for me, and I told you the truth about how much I'd missed you. Look at what you've done to me, for Andraste's sake!"

His expression softened as his eyes ran over her bloody cuts and dark bruises. But just as quick as it had come, his shame vanished from his face.

"You're lying to me. You didn't miss me, you just say that to distract me. If you'd missed me, you would have sent for me. You had all that time to do it, you could have, at any moment. You are the most powerful woman in Thedas, your will is law. But you didn't send for me."

Maker, he really was delusional if he thought her so powerful, but he was right about one thing. She could have sent for him if she'd wished. But she hadn't thought about that, not even once if she was honest with herself. But she couldn't tell him that.

"I was fighting a war! I didn't want you anywhere near that mess, Anders!"

"Stop lying!" he roared and sent a bolt from his hand straight into the wall. The room lit up with purple light and the house shook from the impact. "You didn't send for me because I was only a servant to you! Not a shiny templar or a king."

"Anders, please, stop it! That's not true. And I don't know how you can fault me for my romantic life when you made it very clear to me in Ostwick that I was like a sister to you, nothing more! _You _were the one who turned me down."

Anders was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. But her words seemed to have had at least some effect on him.

He took a step towards her.

"I know that. I'm sorry. I just thought that you were too young, I couldn't allow myself to think about you that way. It was only after you left and didn't come back, that I realized how much you meant to me." He fell to his knees in front of her. "I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I was beside myself with worry. When I heard that you were considered the Herald of Andraste, I waited for you to send for me, so that I could help you. By the time you became Inquisitor, I'd given up hope that you would. I left Ostwick a while ago, to come to you. What I found was repulsive. Grown men like the King and the fucking Knight-Captain of Kirkwall, tripping over themselves to get inside your underclothes, like dogs. You're a teenager, Ashe."

Anger swirled up through her stomach. She _hated _it when anyone implicated that she was too young to do something, anything, since she'd proven a hundred times over that she was not. Who the fuck was he to judge any such thing about her? But she bit back the response she wanted to yell at him and kept quiet. He had never spoken about his motivations before and she wasn't about to interrupt him now.

"You're just a young girl. What you did with men back in Ostwick, I dismissed as youthful experimentation. I'm not a close-minded person, I believe in freedom."

Ashe almost laughed out loud, the notion of him believing in freedom after locking her up here so absolutely ridiculous.

"But you should know better now. Can't you see they're just using you? You're just a little girl to them, your power ripe for the taking. I can keep you safe from them, from all of that. Don't you want to be free of them?"

Ashe hesitated. What was she supposed to say?

She hesitated for too long.

"So you actually _care _for them, then?" he hissed, his eyes black again.

"Of course I do, they're my friends!"

"I'll be dead before I let your _friends _take you away from me. I should have killed them while I had the chance," he said and spun around and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Ashe spat after him.

* * *

She woke up with a creeping feeling of unease in her stomach. She moved her limbs stiffly, groaning when she tried to stretch them out. Dried, crusted blood covered most of her skin and she was weak with blood loss. No wonder she'd fallen asleep where she'd been sitting on the floor. She had no idea how much time had passed but she hoped that it was enough for the others to finally get to her.

She just had to pray that Anders hadn't gotten to them first.

Her stomach did a somersault when she heard someone move outside the door and she whispered to the Maker that she would do anything if the person outside was anyone but Anders.

But the Maker did not hear her.

Anders came in with a bucket of water and a washcloth. She crawled backwards until she her back hugged the wall again when he kneeled down before her.

"Shush, now, I'm not going to hurt you. We need to clean you up," he said, his tone gentle.

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because your friends are going to come in here soon, and I don't want them to think that I'm some kind of monster."

She stared at him. What was he on about? She pulled her hand away, disgusted by his touch, when he tried to hold her to clean her. He didn't look at her face, he only shook his head in what looked like regret before his features set with determination and he yanked her to him and started to clean off the blood.

It was a long and slow process, and she wanted to cry with humiliation when he cleaned her in places that she now felt like she'd rather die than let him see. She needed her strength back.

"Won't you heal me, please?" she pleaded. "I feel so weak, I've lost a lot of blood."

He shook his head. "I can't do that until this is all over. I need you to not fight me on this."

"What are you going to do to them?" she whispered.

"Me? I'm not going to do anything to them. You are. They're going to walk in here, and they are going to see that you're here of your own free will. And then they're going to leave, simple as that."

"You're fucking crazy if you think they would ever believe that," she spat.

"They are going to believe it, if they're as in love with you as you think they are. I know it broke _my_ heart when I saw you with Cullen in Skyhold, and then with Alistair. Broke my heart before I even knew I was in love with you."

Ashe felt cold shivers run down her spine. He'd been to Skyhold? Spying on her, in her own fortress? How had they not known? Everything that he'd told her had been a complete lie, then. There was no doubt in her mind about that now. She'd held out hope that he'd been driven mad just now, that he hadn't attacked her in Denerim, that he hadn't been the one to kill Lady Hewlender or Mahariel.

But there was no other madman but him.

She felt so violated. How could she not have seen him for what he really was? She was so _angry._

She spat in his face. "They're going to kill you."

He calmly wiped the dripping salive off his face. "No they're not. They won't care about you."

He grabbed her then, deflecting her weak struggling as easily as a grown man would a child throwing a tantrum. He dragged her up on the bed and pushed her down into it, almost smothering her since her face was pressed into the mattress, before she managed to wrench her head to the side, gasping for air. He held her wrists behind her back and shoved the fabric of her torn robe to the side.

Ashe couldn't believe what was happening. Panic rose inside her when she realized that she was entirely too weak to fight back.

"Anders, please, don't. Are you actually going to fucking do this to me?" she whispered, not sure if he even heard.

But he did. "I'm just going to show them that you're mine, that you chose me over them, and then they'll go away." He sounded unsure of himself. She could almost feel how the crazy pulled at him and buried his reason.

Maker, she didn't want this. His filthy, treacherous hands on her, once so loving, now making her want to crawl out of her skin where they touched her. She panicked as she felt his hand on the bare skin of her legs, sliding up towards her center.

"No, no, no, please don't Anders, I'll do anything, please don't do this to me," she cried, tears and snot almost choking her.

He didn't say anything. She thought she heard him sob once but he obviously wasn't so sorry that he couldn't get it up. Because the next thing she knew, she screamed in pain as he forced himself into her. He snaked his hand around her head to hold it over her mouth and it was like she couldn't breathe, her only oxygen coming from short bursts of air when his fingers didn't also cover her nose, since they moved when he moved in and out of her.

He turned her over, and his eyes roamed over her naked body before he squeezed his eyes shut like he was struggling with himself, but he never stopped moving, instead driving himself relentlessly into her. She was trapped underneath him and when she felt his hand on her breasts, she wanted to turn her head to the side and vomit. She sobbed and pleaded with him to stop, but he only covered her mouth with his hand again.

This wasn't happening. She almost thanked the Maker when she felt her eyes roll back into her head and she was close to passing out from the lack of air, when he slammed into her hard again and her eyes shot wide open in pain.

She found herself jealous of Mahariel. She wished that she had been the one to die instead of her.

That thought was what pulled her out of the initial shock of what was happening to her. Was she really lying here, wishing that she would die? No, he would _not _make her think so little of herself. He would not take anything from her.

He was fucking with the wrong girl, in every fucking way possible.

And when she got her strength back, she would hurt him in so many ways.

The door slammed open and she wanted to scream in relief when she saw her knights in shining armor standing there. Cullen, Alistair and Greyer. She loved them all so very, very much. The only thing that worried her now was that they might rob her of the opportunity to take out her revenge on Anders. The shock of the scene before them had only paralyzed them for a second, and now they were moving, closing in on Anders like a pack of starved wolves. A moment ago, Ashe wished that she would have been anyone else in the world except for herself. She took one look at the snarling faces of her rescuers and knew that soon, Anders would know that same feeling.

_Maker, let me bathe in his blood._


	28. Chapter 28

_**Alistair**_

Whatever he'd expected to find when they'd finally torn down the barrier to the house, it was not this. He couldn't comprehend it. Anders must have felt it, or at least heard the ruckus when Cullen had broken down the front door. Why hadn't he barricaded himself in here, why had he just let them find...

Alistair didn't know which urge was the strongest – to throw up, to rip Anders' head off or to just take Ashe and get her out of here. Cullen had told them that she was injured, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing her like this: pale as a ghost, blue and purple bruises covering her skin, defenseless underneath that filthy whoreson who was defiling her.

But he didn't let the shock paralyze him for more than a moment, his battle instincts kicking in quickly. He moved slowly towards the bed, hugging the wall on one side while Hawke worked a spell under his breath and Cullen covered him by standing between him and Anders.

Cullen's face looked exactly like what Alistair felt inside. A snarling mask of rage, eyes filled with a promise of blood as he inched closer to Anders.

Anders himself did, shockingly, not stop moving. He kept raping Ashe in front of their very eyes. Either he had a death-wish or he had something up his sleeve. Alistair could barely focus on anything other than seeing red, the anger was so intense he couldn't keep his blade steady in front of him.

"Get off her, right now, or I'll gut you," Cullen growled at Anders. Alistair crept closer, agonizingly slowly, afraid to alert the mage of his movements.

Anders finally looked up. "Why do you even care, Knight-Captain? Can't you see she's chosen me over you? Do you think she would have let me near her, otherwise?" He sounded shaky, desperate.

_Lying. _

As if it would matter even if he were telling the truth.

Cullen voiced Alistair's thoughts a second later. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you actually think we were going to leave her here just because she'd decided to sleep with you, even if I hadn't seen what you did to her earlier? Now you get the fuck off her before I..." he silenced and stopped his advance when he heard Ashe whine and gasp. They all looked down and saw how Anders squeezed his hand around her throat, cutting off her air.

Cullen lowered his sword. "Fine, fine, I'll back up, just let her go, you're killing her, Maker's breath!"

Alistair saw Hawke move in the corner of his eye and something invisible struck Anders square in the chest.

"Get him, _now _Alistair, it'll only last for a few seconds!" Hawke called to him. He wasted no time moving and lunged forward, slamming the pommel of his sword into the back of Anders' head. The mage sagged and Alistair tore him off Ashe and threw him to the floor. Cullen dropped his blade and rushed forward to help Ashe, while Alistair pulled a small blade out from his boot and held it against Anders' throat. Hawke leaned against the wall, completely exhausted after all the magic he'd worked.

Just like Hawke had predicted, the effect of the spell he'd hit Anders with wore off quickly and the blonde man opened his eyes and blinked. Before he could do anything, Alistair pressed him down into the floor, his knee on his chest and his knife pressed so tight against his throat that he drew blood. Anders stared at him and said nothing.

"Just give me a fucking reason," Alistair hissed at him.

"Maker, she's half-dead! Hawke, heal her, please!" Cullen said desperately.

"I can't. I'm out of lyrium, I can barely stand, just... give me a few moments, I'll try to muster the last of my strength..."

"We may not have a few moments!" Cullen yelled. "That fucker never patched her up after what he did to her before, she must have lost so much blood, Andraste... Stay with me Ashe, please," he begged while wrapping her pale body in the covers from the bed.

"I-I will," she whispered. "I won't die now, not before I get to see that bastard bleed for what he did," she said and turned her head weakly towards Anders, who was still pinned down by Alistair. Alistair almost sighed in relief when he saw the fire in her eyes. She may have been weak right now, but she'd recover.

"Just say the word and I'll paint the floor with his blood, Ashe," he said, digging the knife a little deeper into Anders' skin.

"Don't." Alistair almost lost his grip on Anders when he realized that Ashe hadn't been the one to speak. That voice – he must have been hearing things.

"Alistair, drop your blade. You can't kill him."

No, no, no.

"What kind of trickery is this?" he hissed and plunged his knife into Anders' shoulder. The man screamed with pain but Alistair didn't care in the slightest. "Stop your sorcery right now, or the next cut will be across your throat!" he yelled.

"Alistair... you might want to look behind you," Cullen said. Why did he sound so shocked?

Satisfied that Anders was too injured to do anything to him, Alistair got to his feet and turned around. What he saw made him stumble backwards.

There, in the doorway, looking strong and very much alive, was Mahariel. Alistair looked, bewildered, to Hawke and Cullen, who stared at her just like he did. So he wasn't the only one seeing this.

"I buried you," he stated flatly, not sure what to think or feel. This couldn't be real.

"So I've been told," Mahariel said.

She was wearing a traveller's cloak, her hood down, her golden hair cascading down over it. Just as he remembered her when she was alive.

He shook his head in disbelief. Whatever this was, it would have to wait.

_Ashe._

He turned towards the bed and walked up to her. He sat down beside her and took her hand gently in his.

His flower. His future queen.

"You came for me," she whispered.

"Of course I did, love. I'm only sorry we weren't here sooner."

Cullen, who were sitting on the other side of her, thankfully said nothing.

Mahariel approached them and both men tensed.

"Relax, I swear it's me," she said. "I need to help her, or she'll die."

"You're not a mage," Alistair stated suspiciously.

"I know that, Ali, but I _am _a rouge and I know my potions. If you just let me give her this," she waved a vial of red liquid in front of them, "she'll feel better in no time, and I can apply some salves to her injuries."

"I don't like it either, but I don't think we have a choice," Cullen said. Hawke also grunted his approval from where he sat on the floor.

"It's okay, boys. Just let her give it to me. Please, watch Anders while she works on me. I won't feel safe unless you do," Ashe said, her voice a weak, cracked mess.

Cullen and Alistair both got up and walked over to him. He was still writhing on the floor from the blade stuck in his shoulder. Cullen held him down while Alistair looked at Hawke who understood his question without him having to voice it.

"He won't be able to cast anything after the spell I hit him with and as long as he's in too much pain to concentrate. So I guess it's like Satanalia for you two, 'cause your job will be to keep him in that cloud of pain until I've recovered enough to incapacitate him a little more permanently," Hawke smiled.

Cullen grinned and shot his elbow back before landing a bone-cracking blow in Anders' face while Alistair twisted the blade in his shoulder. The blonde mage roared in pain before coughing blood that landed in Cullen's face. The Commander seemed like nothing could make him happier.

"You stop that right now or I'll stop treating Ashe!" Mahariel yelled from over by the bed.

Alistair snapped his head around towards her. "Why? What the fuck are you doing here, anyway? You think you can just walk in here, back from the dead, without giving us any reason to trust you? Why should we listen to a word you say?" he snarled. Maker, he felt so angry, so cheated. He'd _greived _for her, for Andraste's sake. All for nothing, apparently.

"You can yell all you like, like you always do, Alistair," she responded coolly. "It's not going to change anything. You have to listen to me, and I promise to tell you everything when our primary concern has been taken care of: Ashe."

Alistair grudgingly let go of the knife he'd been twisting.

He'd play her game, but only for Ashe's sake. And then, his old love had some bloody answering to do.


	29. Chapter 29

_**Alistair**_

To their great relief, Ashe seemed to be on her way to recovering. She was sleeping in a different room of the house now, with Hawke watching over her. Anders was restrained and put to sleep by one of Mahariel's mixtures. Mahariel herself was sitting on a couch, warming her hands against the heat coming from the fireplace in front of it. Cullen sat to the side and Alistair was leaning against the wall, eyeing Mahariel suspiciously. He was still far from convinced that it was really her.

"Tell us what happened, Mahri," Cullen said softly. Alistair rolled his eyes at the endearing nickname.

"I'm not exactly sure, if I'm honest with you. Anders and I, well as you know, we know each other from before. After the Blight, I recruited him..."

"Yes, yes, we know, get to the point," Alistair snapped.

"Fine. Everything went black after the attack at your party. I woke up in a crypt, with Anders standing over me. He saved me. He brought me here, to keep me safe from whoever it was that had attacked me. He's innocent."

"Innocent?" Alistair asked incredulously. "We walked in on him _raping _Ashe. The bastard didn't even stop then, he just kept on... Maker, _innocent_!"

Mahariel did look a bit uncertain of herself as she listened to his words. "Are you sure that was really what went on?"

"Not a doubt about it," Cullen said, his jaw stiff. "Where were you when this went down? I thought she was just rambling at the time, but now I understand. Ashe asked me if I'd seen you, when I spoke with her through the window before we managed to break through the last barrier. She didn't seem shocked to see you before either."

Mahariel nodded, a blonde lock of hair falling down over her face while she did so. "I spoke to her briefly when she first got here."

Alistair stared at her. Everything about her was so familiar, down to the smallest detail like how she swept her hair out of her face. Was it really her?

As if she could sense his emotions, she turned to look at him. Her turquiose eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul and for the first time in – well, he couldn't even remember how long, she looked at him with something other than coldness and disdain. She looked sad.

"If he did to her what you say he did, than I am truly sorry that I didn't stay here. Maybe it wouldn't have had to happen, then. But I left because I wanted to help him. He's sick. I could see how he struggled to stay lucid, that his grip on reality was slipping. I assumed that he'd been afflicted with something by the same person who attacked me. I went away to try to find this person. I only turned back because I caught word from some peasants that a trio of men in full armor had stormed through the countryside on horses, heading in this direction. I didn't know it was _you_, I just knew that it would probably be bad news for Anders."

"You're not wrong about that," Cullen muttered. "Don't you think it's possible that Anders is the only one responsible? That he attacked you and Ashe just to make up an excuse to take her here?"

"I suppose," she said and looked deeply in thought. "But why bring me here, then? Why not just kill me? As embarrassing as it is to admit it, he could have. I was caught off guard."

"Maybe he wanted Ashe to trust him? To make her see that he hadn't killed you?" Cullen mused. "He obviously wants her, but he seems..."

"Out of control?" Mahariel filled in. Cullen nodded grimly, his face filled with disgust.

"He doesn't seem to be himself, no," she continued. "At times, he was completely lucid, and then I could see him slipping, just like I told you. It's almost as if something is trying to possess him, although he would have felt that and said so, I think. This is more like a disease, eating away at his mind."

Alistair pressed his hands together anxiously. "Mahariel, I'm sorry I yelled at you before, I..."

She silenced him with an outstretched hand. "Don't, Alistair. You were shocked, and suspicious. Maker, I would have scolded you myself if you weren't," she smiled sadly. "I'm glad you're not as naive as we both once were. I could have been a demon for all you knew."

He just nodded, accepting that he was forgiven.

"And I know what that girl means to you." She turned to Cullen and took his hand in hers. "And for you as well, dear friend."

Cullen smiled at her a little, his expression warm when he met her eyes.

Alistair stared at the pair of them while their eyes lingered on each other for an uncomfortably long time.

The awkwardness was broken when Hawke stuck his head through the door.

"Princess is doing good. She'll be healthy as a nut in no time. He on the other hand," he inclined his head towards Anders, "probably won't feel so good when she's done with him."

"She's not to do anything to him before we know what's going on with him," Mahariel said and stood up to greet Hawke, since there hadn't really been time for that before.

"I'd like to see you try and stop her," Hawke grinned and embraced the elven woman.

"It's good to see you, Greyer," she said softly while her head was on his shoulder before letting go.

"No, really, I'd pay to see it," he said. She rolled her eyes at him and he laughed. "It's really good to see you alive and kicking, missy. What happened?"

She quickly filled him in on what she'd just told Cullen and Alistair.

"So, this is all weird as shit," he stated. "What are we going to do about Anders?"

"We'll let Ashe decide, obviously," Alistair said. "Until then, we wait."

* * *

_**Cullen**_

Damn, she was really beautiful. Such a rare being, so intelligent, beautiful and most of all dangerous.

She reminded him of Ashe in many ways. Cullen was very glad that she was alive.

He watched Mahariel as she was sitting on the couch still, watching Anders. He could almost see the cogwheels turn in her brain as she was trying to figure this all out. Hawke and Alistair had left to be with Ashe so that she wouldn't be alone when she woke up.

He moved to sit beside Mahariel, and she tore her eyes away from Anders and looked at him as he did so.

"Do you really think he's innocent? That someone, what – _made _him do this to Ashe?" Cullen asked, unable to keep the sceptisism out of his voice.

Mahariel shugged. "I don't know. We'll have to question him about it when he wakes up."

"Yes, if Ashe doesn't rip him in half first," he said. Mahariel only nodded absent-mindedly in response.

"Mahri, why did you come with me that night to the palace? You said it was only as a favor to me. Is that really true?"

"What does it matter, Cullen, really? What difference does it make? I have my own life now, away from Alistair and the court."

"And are you happy?"

She smiled at him, her eyes sharp and intelligent. "You tell me. Did I seem happy during the time you spent in my company?"

Of course she wouldn't just hand him any answers on a silver platter without grilling him first. He should have known better.

"Yes, but that could have just been overjoyment from your side over my delightful, charming company," he said, his voice amused and a tad bit seductive.

Any other woman would have fawned over it, but Mahariel just laughed, unimpressed. "You're full of yourself as usual, Rutherford," she said, still smiling a little.

"Full of admiration, perhaps."

"Not for me, I bet. Tell me Cullen, what is it about Ashe that's so special that you and Alistair are both tripping over yourself to cross the finish line first? Even Greyer's into her, yes? I mean, in as much as Greyer Hawke can be into anybody, meaning that he's probably slept with her repeatedly."

Cullen could feel his smile sour at her words.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a baby about it," she scolded. "She's a grown woman, well almost, and can you blame her? I mean, I probably wouldn't say no to that face either, and that _body_..."

"Mahri," Cullen moaned, not particularly in the mood to hear how even the Hero of Ferelden wanted to get into Greyer Hawke's pants.

"Just trying to lighten the mood, Mr. Stuffy Commander."

Cullen didn't have a chance to respond before the door flung open. Ashe stood in the opening, her eyes wild and searching. He saw that she had her sword in her hand just as her eyes found Anders, still asleep on the floor in the corner of the room. Without saying a word, she walked up to him, Hawke and Alistair not far behind and she stopped in front of him. She regarded him coldly for a few moments before she kicked him as hard as she could in the face.

"That ought to wake him up," she said. Cullen could feel his own bloodlust awaken when he heard the mage groan and spit blood on the floor. He deserved all he had coming and more. He cheered inwardly when Ashe kicked him again, so hard that teeth flew out of his mouth.

Then she threw herself down on him, pressing her knee into his throat, making him choke on his own blood.

"You don't feel so good now, do you?" she asked, her voice steady, calm.

_Too calm._

Cullen knew she was at her most dangerous when she was like this: cold, calculating.

"Not being able to breathe, while someone assaults you, do you enjoy it? You sick, Maker damned son of a whore. You took what wasn't yours to take. You _raped _me. _Me. _How many times have you called me your little sister? Your kitten? Told me that you loved me? Did you think about what you were going to do to me, all those times?"

Cullen saw how Anders' eyes widened as she spoke, and he guessed it wasn't just because of the lack of air. He sputtered and choked under her knee, which wasn't moving an inch. But Mahariel had moved to Ashe's side and put a calming hand on her shoulder.

"Let him speak, child. I assure you it won't do you any good to keep wondering why he did this to you if you kill him without letting him speak."

Ashe looked like she was about to bite the older woman's head off, but then she relented and loosened her grip on Anders.

He spat out some more blood and inhaled deeply, coughing when the air filled his lungs too quickly. After a few heartbeats, he regained some semblance of normal breathing.

"I-I didn't mean to, Ashe, I don't know what came over me, I _swear_," he said, his voice rough from the strangling. "I just wanted to make them go away, and you seemed so willing before -"

_Oh, shit -_

Ashe's eyes flew wide open and rage contorted her beautiful face while she smashed her fist into his face. Anders' head bounced against the floor and the light went out from his eyes.

Mahariel once again stilled Ashe's hand when she raised it to hit him again.

"Don't, I beg of you Ashe. Think of what he once meant to you, would he really do this to you if he were himself? Let's leave this damned place, take him with us, in chains if you like. We'll go to Skyhold, keep him there and let Leliana question him. You know she, if anyone, can get to the bottom of this."

Ashe sat still over Anders, breathing harshly and saying nothing for several, long minutes.

Finally, she rose to her feet. "Fine. We'll do it you way. I want to leave, I want to go home. But I warn you: If he even looks at me when he wakes up, I'll rip his gut open with my bare hands."

Mahariel nodded. "Fair enough. So let's go to Skyhold."


	30. Chapter 30

_**Ashe**_

It took them over a week to reach Skyhold. Anders had been kept heavily drugged the whole way. Hawke hadn't even needed to use his magic on the other mage, Mahariel's herbs and potions were enough. Ashe made a mental note of keeping in mind that it would be dangerous to cross that woman. Ashe may be the stronger one physically, she was sure she could run the elven woman through without much effort if she had to, but she would have to catch her first. They'd run into some bandits a few days away from Skyhold, and Ashe had barely seen Mahariel during the fight, she'd moved so fast around their enemies, cutting them with poisoned blades and throwing powders in their faces that made them scream and tear at their own flesh.

All very gruesome, really. It left Ashe both impressed and wondering who would win a fight between the two of them. It would be grand, a spectacle she was sure. The Inquisitor and the Hero of Ferelden. But still, she hoped they would never find out.

She breathed a deep sigh of relief when she finally had her home in sight, and riding through the gates made her feel like she never wanted to leave again.

Maker, but she was exhausted. Not only physically, but from keeping her anger in check. How was she supposed to have the patience to find out what was going on with Anders when _all _she wanted to do was to put her hands around his neck and watch the life go out in his eyes while she squeezed?

Leliana met them in the courtyard and quickly swept them into to keep, eager to keep them away from curious eyes. She had greeted Mahariel as a friend, but Ashe could sense there were underlying tensions between the bard and her old companion. Mahariel was impossible to read though, as usual. Ashe would ask Leliana about it later, if she had the energy.

After briefing her spymaster and making sure that Anders was locked up in the dungeon, guarded around the clock by several competent mages, she finally stumbled into her room, thanking the Maker that her bed was made and ready for her to fall into. She left it to others to show Alistair and Hawke hospitality.

When she woke up, it was pitch black outside. The clouds hid the moonlight and only the faintly glowing embers from her fireplace shed some light in the room. Her head felt heavy and her body ached but it was just the aftermath of the long journey. Hawke had, thankfully, healed her completely after what had happened with Anders. She tried not to get herself worked up about it but she couldn't stop herself from digging her nails into her palms when she thought about how he had forced her, how she had _begged_. She didn't know what made her angrier – the violation in itself or how he had reduced her to something she had vowed to never become: weak. She knew it wasn't her fault. He'd injured her and she'd suffered heavily from the loss of blood before he took her, so that she couldn't fight back. She _always _fought back, and he'd taken that from her too.

_He's going to pay in blood._

She vowed this to herself, no matter his reasons, no matter if he'd been messed up in the head at the time, which she didn't even believe, that he would suffer for all of it. For raping her, but most of all for making her weak. She would show him what it was like when she wasn't. Hurting him, even killing him wasn't going to be enough.

But that would have to wait until Leliana had gotten everything out of him, whatever that was. She'd let Mahariel and Leli decide, she didn't much care.

Right now, all she wanted was to feel someone who actually loved her close. Someone who didn't just claim to love her and then hurt her. She wanted to feel something other than this consuming anger. And the only remedy for that would be to feel filled with desire instead, that was the only thing she knew how to do better than to fight and kill.

She got out of bed and lit the candle at her bedside before going to her closet. She chose a pair of leather pants, knee-high boots and a deep blue jacket which she buttoned up just to the top of her breasts, leaving the rest of her skin exposed. She took a quick look in the mirror and nodded to herself, confirming that she looked alright. Her crimson hair was a bit messy, but it fit the look she was going for.

She didn't even make it down the stairs before she heard a knock on her door. She jumped down the last few steps, newfound excitement spurring her on, before opening the door.

She smiled when she saw Alistair standing outside but her smile faltered when she saw that he was wearing full armor and a cloak around his shoulders.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

Alistair looked regretful. "I'm afraid so. I would like nothing more than to stay here with you, but I need to get back to Denerim, to deal with the consequenses of all this. Mahariel is alive, when we've just had her funeral, the nation is mourning still. It will be a great shock to all and I have to be there to explain and calm the situation. Plus, I imagine my haste departure has caused somewhat of an outrage. I'm sorry, truly Ashe, but I'm sure you understand I have no choice."

"The burden of being king. You can't put your personal life first, I know Alistair," she said and raised her hand to caress his cheek, her eyes warm and full of sympathy. Judging the way his jaw clenched when he spoke of his duty, she imagined he was none too happy about leaving her.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "You have no idea how much I just want to say fuck it all, Ashe. To leave you now, after what happened to you... I hate myself for it."

"Don't, please. I'll be alright."

He looked up and grabbed hold of her hand. "I know you can look after yourself, it's not that. I just want to be here for you, in any way that you might need me."

He looked so sincere it made her heart flutter. "Just hearing that is more than enough. Just write to me, promise?"

He nodded.

"And we'll see each other soon," she continued. "Is... Is Mahariel going with you?"

"Yes. We have to show people that she's alive before rumors starts flying around. I doubt she's happy about it, but it's the way it's got to be."

"Why would she be unhappy about it?"

"You know she and I don't exactly get along so well these days. Plus, I said some pretty terrible things to her when I first saw her when we found you. I sounded like... like I would rather she'd have stayed dead."

Ashe remembered vaguely, how he'd shouted at her and mistrusted her. She also remembered Mahariel not blaming him for it.

"I'm sure she's not angry for that anymore, Alistair. It'll all work out, I'm sure."

She just hoped it didn't work out too well. The elven woman was so beautiful, and she and Alistair had a long history together. She wasn't stupid. She knew what always inevitably happened in those sorts of situations. She was surprised it hadn't happened already, that he wasn't with Mahariel right now. It really meant a lot to her that he was still interested.

"We have to leave now but I'm sure Mahariel will be back soon, as soon as we've shown everyone that she's alive. She has personal interest in all this now. I'll come as soon as my duties allow me. I already long for the day I can finally see you again."

Alistair opened his arms and Ashe molded herself against him and rested her head against his shoulder while he put his arms around her.

"Thank you for coming for me," she whispered and he hummed against her in response.

When he finally let go, he didn't do so without tilting her head up with his fingertips and placing a soft, warm kiss on her lips. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and then he turned around and left without saying another word.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

It was dark and a bit drafty in his office but he didn't mind. The chill kept him awake as he sat at his desk, wading through the mountain of papers and reports scattered all over it.

He'd been away for too long, and going through these was a distraction he sorely needed to keep him from what he really wanted, which was to go down into the dungeon and do what he should have done as soon as that deviant had shown up in Ashe's quarters in Denerim: kill him. Maybe cut off his filthy hands first. It would be a fitting punishment for touching Ashe against her will.

He tried to stop thinking about it, but the second he did, tremendous guilt swept over him. He should never have called the guards when Anders appeared. He should have just killed him. Fuck, he should have killed the son of a bitch back in Kirkwall.

He put his head in his hands, weighed down by the crushing sense of regret. He didn't know how long he sat like that before he heard a soft knock on the door.

His eyes widened when Ashe slipped through and closed the door behind her and he stood up so fast that he knocked his chair over.

She put her hand over her mouth to hide a small laughter. She looked...

"Ashe," he breathed. "You have no idea how good it is to see you so... so..."

"Like what?" she said and smiled.

"So healthy and lovely."

"Sweet, sweet man," she said. Maker, when she smiled at him like that, it reminded him a thousand times over why he would walk through fire for her. "But Andraste it's cold in here!" she exclaimed and rubbed her arms with her hands.

He immediately closed the window behind him. When he turned around to face her again, she was standing right in front of him.

"Cullen. I... thank you. For coming to get me. I don't know if I would've gotten out on my own. I'm so sorry I brought this mess on us all."

"Are you out of your mind? What are you apologizing for? If anyone should say they're sorry, it's me. I should have killed that bastard the moment he appeared in your quarters, I..."

He was shocked when she silenced him with a kiss. She ended it all too soon but kept a steady grip on his arms. "No one is to blame for what happened but Anders, do you understand me? With your logic, I might just as well blame myself."

"Absolutely not," he said with a tight jaw. Maker's breath, she would _not _be allowed to blame herself. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm so angry for letting it happen to you."

"Please, stop it, Cullen. There was nothing you could have done, except what you did and that was to rescue me. I won't hear any more of it, in fact, if you speak about it, I'm going to have to make you shut up."

He was a bad, bad man, but he couldn't help the tingling feeling of excitement creeping up on him as she spoke. Her smile had turned wicked, after all.

"And if I speak of something very boring, like my reports, or the weather, will you make me shut up then, too?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling while he pulled her closer to him.

"Try me."

He reached behind her and picked up a piece of paper from the desk. "I have a letter here from an outraged Lord Dufilange from Val Ro..."

She snatched the letter from him and scrounged it up before she threw it over her shoulder. "Screw the Orlesians," she said, her eyes full of mischief. "Or better yet, screw me."


	31. Chapter 31

_**Ashe**_

She felt delighted when she saw the playful look in Cullen's eyes as he stood there, teasing her with some letter from an Orlesian. She couldn't bear anyone else looking at her like she was some fragile little girl, and she was grateful that Cullen didn't.

After she threw the letter away and practically invited him to fuck her, he smiled at her like he used to, his expression slick, hot, cunning.

She bit her lip and then she kissed him. She stumbled forward slightly when he put his arms around her waist and she flinched when she stubbed her toe against the desk, hissing through her teeth.

_Shit, that hurt like a son of a..._

"Maker, I'm so sorry, Ashe," Cullen mumbled and stepped away from her, like she was carrying the plague.

_Huh?_

"I shouldn't have touched you like that, it was too soon. Damnit, I should have known better!" he berated himself and turned around to face the window, too ashamed to look at her.

"Cullen," she said slowly. "Are you kidding me right now?"

He didn't answer and she started to feel really pissed off. "I just hit my damn toe against the desk, nothing more!" she said, frustrated.

"Please," he said and threw his arms out in front of him when he'd turned around again to face her. "Don't make excuses for me, it was inappropriate and I should have known better."

"I'm not – Maker, I'm telling you, it was nothing! And what do you mean 'you should know better'? What is it that you are supposed to know, exactly?"

"I should have known you weren't ready for this yet."

Ashe blinked, stunned at his stupidity. Didn't he know her at all? Did he _want _to attend his own funeral?

"So you're saying that you know better than me what I'm ready for or not?"

"I didn't..."

She slapped him, hard. He just stared at the floor. She hit him again. No reaction, no hands flying up to stop her, or even defend himself. He refused to touch her, even though that meant he got hurt.

She shoved him then, anything to get him to react.

He looked at her with ill-concealed pity. "It's okay, love. Just let it out."

She was seething by now. "Let fucking _what _out? What do you think this is? Do you think I'm so damaged that I came here in the middle of the night, to try to seduce you and then panic when you touch me? Do you think that you remind me of Anders? Maker's breath!" she swore. "All this because I stubbed my fucking toe? You're so full of yourself, Cullen. Well, you can just sit here and wallow in your completely unnecessary pity then. I've got better things to do. Like _not _feeling sorry for myself or linger on what happened in the past."

She left his office without so much as a glance back at him, and just as well, since he didn't say a word in response.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

The sky was cloudy but eerily still, like the calm before a storm was about to hit, but Cullen wasn't concerned about that. A storm had already hit him in the form of Ashe Trevelyan.

_Maker, the temperament of that girl..._

But he couldn't blame her. He was leaning his arms against the battlements, shoulders tense as he thought about what an idiot he was as he looked up to the sky. It was still dark, barely an hour after she'd slammed the door to his office behind her.

He was an idiot, because after all this time, he simply didn't know how to handle her. She'd been traumatized, was it really so loathesome of him to want to treat her carefully? He sighed, because he knew as soon as he thought about it that it was probably presumptuous of him, because really, what did he know? She hadn't talked about what had happened with Anders on the way back to Skyhold, except for how much she wanted the mage dead. She seemed far more angry than broken. And now, she'd come to him for comfort or to feel normal or whatever it was that drove her to him, and what had he done? Reminded her again of what had happened. What a bastard he was.

Sentries passed behind him every so often, careful not to disturb him, so he was surprised when he heard someone walk up and stand beside him.

"Couldn't sleep, Commander?"

Cullen glanced at the man beside him.

"You could say that. And you, Hawke?"

"Mhm. A bit difficult when one of your former best friends kidnapped and hurt your current one."

Cullen said nothing. He fleetingly registered Hawke using the term 'friend' and not something more intimate to describe Ashe, but he didn't really care about that right now. The time for rivalry over her was, if not over, definitely put on hold.

"So, what did you do?" Hawke said and looked at Cullen, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Maker," Cullen groaned. "Am I really that obvious?"

"Yes, really. Standing here, sulking for hours. As far as I know, nothing else has happened since our arrival, so you've clearly spoken to Ashe."

"I... may have implied that I knew what was best for her, and she didn't agree."

Cullen could almost _hear _how Hawke rolled his eyes at him, but he refused to look at the man, opting to keep staring out over the horizon instead.

"I'm surprised you still have your head attached to your neck," Hawke commented dryly.

"Yes, me too, me too." Cullen had no idea why he was telling Hawke any of this, but it felt good to talk to someone.

"Look, Commander. I generally don't like to get involved in other people's business -"

Cullen scoffed at that.

"Hey, do you want my advice or not?"

He wanted to say no, but he did want it, since he only seemed capable of fucking things up on his own.

"It's simple," Hawke continued. "You just have to do what she wants. And do it well, smoothly, you hear me? She deserves to feel happy."

Cullen shrugged in exasperation. "But I don't know what she wants! I'm not even sure that she does."

"Of course she does, you idiot. Don't you know her at all? Let me guess: She was abundantly clear about what it was, and then your overprotective alpha male-drive took over and decided that she was the helpless, little girl that she hates people treating her as." Hawke clicked his teeth and shook his head. "I'm amazed you don't know better. I mean, how long have you known her, really?"

With that, Hawke turned around and walked toward the stairs down, whistling a merry tune as he went.

Maker, that man was insufferable. But absolutely, irrevocably right.

* * *

_**Hawke**_

Greyer Hawke was a practical man. And had he believed for one second that all Ashe needed was sex, he would have been more than happy to provide that for her. But right now, she needed more than psysical comfort. She needed stability, love. Not that he didn't love her, but the stability part was the real issue. Sooner of later he would have to leave. He couldn't stay in Skyhold, he had other things to attend to. And he was afraid that it would be impossible to leave her if their feelings went any deeper than they did now, or that he would ask her to come with him, which he knew she couldn't say yes to even if she wanted to.

Unnecessary complications he could do without, even though his jaw clenched tightly as his mind uttered the thought.

Better to leave her be and let her explore the wiser alternative. Cullen was a hotheaded bastard, but he was Ashe's general. He already had a natural place by her side and he would never leave her. Besides, Ashe had went to him this night, therefore he was what she wanted, at least right now.

Regardless of his personal feelings, Greyer Hawke was a practical man.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

She woke up and yawned, rubbing her tired eyes before opening them and taking in her surroundings. Maker, it felt good to be back in her own room. She nestled deeper into the mattress, enjoying the soft warmth of the covers and blankets draped over her body. Bright rays of sunshine shone in through the windows – the approaching storm of last night seemingly gone. Her belly rumbled with hunger and she reluctantly left the warmth of her bed to get dressed and go out to raid the kitchen. She shivered a little when the cool air hit the bare skin of her arms and legs, regretting putting on the tiny nightgown she had on instead of her pyjamas last night. She tip-toed over the freezing floor and sat down at her vanity, groaning when catching sight of herself in the mirror. She had bags under her eyes and her hair was a tangled mess.

"Andraste, I look like crap..." she mumbled to herself.

"You look adorable."

She yelped and spun around, spotting Cullen leaning casually against the railing.

"What the fuck, Cullen? Trying to give me a heart attack? Still being an ass, I see," she grumbled. He just laughed quietly at her and once the shock of finding herself not alone settled, she eyed him from head to toe. He was wearing leather pants, boots and a loose, white shirt, barely buttoned.

"Maker's breath," she murmured.

"What?"

_Oh, that sly look..._

"I'm still angry at you! You're a bastard, a know-it-all bastard. I hate you."

Cullen snickered and walked up to her, but she stubbornly backed away from him. "You don't hate me, little one."

"Maker, don't call me that!" she snapped and threw a pillow his way. It _was _ridiculous for him to call her that, she was a warrior, almost as tall as he was, not some dainty little country girl.

He just grinned infuriatingly at her and to her great surprise, he picked up the pillow and threw it back at her. It hit her right in the face and she fell back onto the bed with a muffled 'oomph!'

She'd barely removed the pillow from her face when she felt Cullen straddling her, making her wonder how in the world those leather pants he had on held together, before she felt his rather impressive equipment press into her stomach.

Not rather impressive, she admitted to herself. _Damn _impressive, and she couldn't help the blood rushing between her legs.

He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. "Say you hate me, and I'll get off and leave," he murmured before he licked her neck, his tongue swiping over her skin, once, twice. She moaned in pleasure.

"I do hate you, but you will do no such thing," she whispered and pulled him in for a hard kiss. After a few breathless moments, he pulled away and smiled crookedly at her.

"I know what else I want to kiss," he said and she didn't even have time to think of a witty response before his hand caressed her inner thigh. He pulled up the hem of her nightdress and slipped his hand underneath, and she bit her lip when he brushed his fingers against her already wet center. He kissed his way down her neck and her collarbone while he eased a finger into her, making her breaths come out in short, ragged bursts. She moaned and arched her back as he kissed her still covered breast, sucking at her nipple, making the fabric sopping wet. He continued down and she almost protested when he removed his finger from inside of her to discard her clothing completely. He looked at her naked body with hungry eyes.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, and then he sank down to his knees and pushed her legs apart before pushing his tongue against her cunt. He licked her folds, all the way up to her clit, and she cried out when he flicked his tongue against it. "Maker, you're so wet for me," he whispered and pushed two fingers into her soaking pussy. He moved his fingers expertly in and out of her, hitting the sweet spot with his tongue every time. It wasn't long before she was a shaking mess, moments away from her orgasm. "I want to feel you around me when you come, sweetheart," he growled and lapped at her a final time before he withdrew. She wanted to scream at him for stopping, but it was worth it when she saw him throw his shirt over his head.

"Are you trying to kill me? Fuck me _now,_ Cullen, or I'm going to come just from looking at you," she said and stared at the ripped muscles of his abdomen.

He laughed quietly again. "As you command, Inquisitor," he said playfully and quickly unbuttoned his pants and threw them to the floor. She bit her lip hungrily when his cock came into view, eager to feel him inside her. She turned over and stood on her knees and hands, desperate to feel him fuck her as hard as possible.

He bent over her, molding himself against her without actually entering her. Feeling his hard cock teasing her opening made her mad with desire. She felt his mouth right next to her ear. "You want to be a filthy little girl, huh? You want me to take you like this, from behind, like some whore?" he hissed.

_Yes, yes, yes!_

This was exactly what she wanted. No treating her like she was some fragile little thing just because of what had happened. In its own way, this was far more respectful, doing what he knew she'd always liked.

"Say it," he growled again, his hands all over her, pinching her nipples, rubbing against her clit.

"Fuck me hard Cullen, please, fuck me like a whore," she begged. He was not long in granting her wish and she gasped violently when he pushed his cock into her. He was huge and it took several thrusts before he was all the way into her. He stilled when he finally was, and she enjoyed the feeling of being so utterly filled by him. He kissed her neck and squeezed her hips lovingly. "Ashe, you feel so good," he whispered and then he moved against her and her eyes almost rolled back into her head with pleasure. His cock stretched her so deliciously and the sounds he made when he fucked her was enough to set her blood on fire. It wasn't long before she came, gasping and screaming his name while clenching around him, making him grunt, relentlessly driving himself in and out of her, not slowing down for one second.

She was so sensitive and it was like pleasure doubled when he fucked her like that all throughout her orgasm, it was like it never really ended. Wave after wave hit her while he whispered dirty things in her ear, cursing and moaning so sinfully that she never wanted to hear anything else but these delicious profanities out of his mouth for the rest of her life.

He flipped her over to face her and she lost track of time as he continued to drive himself into her, reveling in feeling his hot, sweating body pressed against hers.

"Andraste, fuck... Ashe, you're gonna make me come," he growled. "You want me to fill you up? My sweet, little girl, do you want me to make you even dirtier?"

"I want to taste you, daddy," she said and smiled, her eyes glinting with playful mischief. He raised his eyebrow at what she'd called him but smiled lecherously at her when she opened her mouth wide and stuck her tongue out as if ready to take his cum. He seemed more than happy to go along with her little game. He pushed her up against the pillows and withdrew from her, kneeling in front of her while he took his cock in his hand, still glistening wet from her juices and started to jerk himself off right in front of her mouth. She leaned forward and opened her mouth wider, touching the tip of him with her wet, little tongue, making him groan. He moved his hand even faster, grunting and moaning harder as he jerked himself against her tongue.

"Fuck, _fuck_, are you ready?" he moaned, breathless. She nodded eagerly and felt delighted when a guttural sound tore up through his throat and spurt after spurt of his cum landed in her mouth. She swallowed as much as he could, feeling so deliciously dirty when some of it ran down the corner of her mouth.

When he was spent, he collapsed down into the bed, catching his breath for a few moments before opening his eyes and staring at her in wonder as she made a show of licking up every last drop of him, wiping her mouth with her finger and licking it slowly before licking her lips clean.

"Fuck, you are too amazing for words," he mumbled and pulled her down to him, nestling her head against his shoulder. They lay there in the afterglow, not speaking for a while, before he asked: "Are you good, sweetheart?"

This time she didn't mind him asking. "Yeah. I'm good," she smiled.


	32. Chapter 32

_**Alistair**_

To claim that Alistair was uncomfortable was an understatement. He had been riding next to Mahariel all day in silence. She glanced over at him from time to time, but he had no clue what to say.

Because what did one say to a woman whose broken, dead body you'd held in your arms, cried over, cursed yourself for being an ass to – just to yell at her when you found out that she was alive?

He was just too damned ashamed to say anything now.

Later that night, sitting in front of the fire of their campsite, Mahariel was the one to break the silence.

"Are you going to tell me what's eating away at you, Alistair? I swear, if I could have gotten you to shut up like this during the Blight, I would have been one happy girl. Now it just unnerves me."

His head snapped up and he looked at her watching him with her head cocked to the side. She looked just like Ashe when she did that, but thankfully that was where the similarities between the two women ended. Ashe was young, passionate, could even be cruel sometimes if what he'd heard about her work in the Inquisition was true. Mahariel was a little older, more calculating, lethal but still adored by everyone around her. But Alistair knew – oh, he knew, that she could be cruel as well. Maybe they weren't so different after all, her and Ashe. Both beautiful, strong, dangerous women. So, so beautiful. Ashe with her wild, crimson waves of hair, her proud warrior's posture. Mahariel with cascading blonde curls, her slight frame, elegant features...

Alistair laughed, nervous like a chantry boy in Mahariel's presence.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Mahariel. Nothing's eating away at me, except perhaps these pesky mosquitos," he said and waved his hand in front of his face.

"It's freezing, Alistair. There are no insects here now," she stated flatly.

Maker, he wished she would stop looking at him like that. Like she could see straight through him. He cleared his throat. "Anyways. What do you think of..."

"Did you go to my funeral?" Mahariel interrupted. "Did you make a grand speech? Oh, I can't wait to see my tomb. Is it glorious? I would be very disappointed if it weren't."

"I think you'll find it to your liking. A tomb befitting the Hero of Ferelden. Speaking of, how _are _we going to spin this? That you're alive? People have been flocking to your grave, crying and mourning. We have to do it in a respectful way, we can't afford anyone thinking that this was all some cruel joke."

"Oh my. Right down to business, aren't we? How very regal of you. No 'How are you doing after all this, Mahariel?' 'What did it feel like to wake up from the dead, Mahariel?' No, no, that's none of your concern, is it, Your Majesty?"

Alistair couldn't tell if she was serious or not. He never could.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so callous about it, I... uhm..." He trailed off when she rose from where she was sitting and walked up to him and bent down in front of him, her hands on her legs and her eyes at his level.

"You're cute when you're confused," she said and pinched his cheek, like he was three years old. "I can almost remember why I used to like you so much."

He swallowed hard when her hand drifted down and brushed over his crotch. "Oh right, now I _really _remember why," she said before she turned around and walked away, laughing to herself all the way to her tent before she disappeared into it, leaving Alistair by the fire, his cheeks burning like a teenager's.

* * *

_**Ashe **_

There was so much work to be done. She had been away from the Inquisiton for far too long, her and Cullen both. There had been absolutely no time to spend with him since that night he'd fucked her, and she was going crazy. Work was boring and she was... well, she was horny. She couldn't help it and blamed it on the fact that she was young and filled with adrenaline from sparring but not killing anyone, from being surrounded by gorgeous men but denied every one of them. Cullen was perhaps even more busy than she was, and Hawke spent all of his time interrogating and watching Anders. Anders, who made her want to spit every time she thought of his name. She gladly left the interrogations to Hawke for now, she knew she would be of no use there, if the goal wasn't to smash Anders to pieces – which she secretly hoped Hawke was doing every now and then anyway.

After a few weeks, she heard the news of the King of Ferelden returning to the capital with – to the great joy of his people – the Hero of Ferelden. They'd spun some story about how the King had been tricked by enemies to the Crown that Mahariel was dead, when she'd in fact just been kidnapped, and that he'd personally come to her rescue as soon as he'd heard even a rumor that she might still be alive. Songs and poems about the King and the Hero's undying love for each other had already started to circulate. No one seemed to care that she was an elf anymore, at least not for the moment.

Of course, Ashe was more than a little annoyed by it all. Fucking _poems_. She scoffed at crap like that. Unless, just maybe, there were going to be poems about her and the King. Or maybe her and the Lion, the Inquisitor and her general. Or perhaps about Lady Trevelyan and legendary Greyer Hawke...

Ashe sighed and mentally berated herself for getting lost in such foolish daydreams.

"Your Worship?"

She was sitting in her throne, one leg lazily thrown over the other.

"Mhm. Execute him. He's a murderer." She was holding judgement over some idiot who'd poisoned his neighbor for sleeping with his wife, and then he'd killed his wife as well. She understood passion, jealousy, but she would never condone such violence, especially not after Anders and his crazy antics. If anything, it made her want to fuck around more, just because it was her Maker given right to do whatever she wanted. As was the right of this man's wife. Of course, there were consequences to every action, and she was prepared to live with that. She didn't know if the wife had felt the same, but murder was more than anyone deserved. Maybe the woman had loved the neighbor and planned to run away with him. Maybe the murderous husband was a piece of shit who didn't deserve better. She mused on all this as the man she'd just sentenced to death was being dragged away.

Later that day, she met Hawke as she passed him coming out of the dungeons.

"Greyer!" she called to him and waved him over to her. She noted with delight that his knuckles were bloody. His face was a little sweaty and she couldn't help noticing how his shirt clung tightly to his chest. "Constructive day?" she asked, one eyebrow raised and a small smile playing on her lips.

"I don't know. I guess I'll see when that fiend wakes up later. I may or may not have knocked him unconscious a few moments ago," Hawke said and dragged his hand through his hair.

Ashe had to bite her lip to restrain herself. He looked so sexy with his tousled hair, a little sweat and dirt on his face, a moderate amount of blood spattered on him. She didn't care how weird it was of her, but all those things made her want to drag him with her to a corner of the keep and let him fuck her until she couldn't walk straight.

She spotted Cullen walking up on the battlements behind them, before her mind drifted off to Alistair, remembering that morning when he'd thrown their breakfast on the floor and kissed her until she couldn't breathe before slipping his fingers into her, one after another until he filled her up and...

"Princess, you hearing me or are you too busy biting your lip off?"

She snapped out of her daydream and looked up at Hawke, who was smiling knowingly at her.

Fuck, fuck, _fuck _but she wanted all three of them. Preferably at the same time. She could just see it now. Alistair kissing her while she was sitting on top of Cullen, who would be fucking her slowly before Hawke eased himself into her ass, and Alistair letting his hard cock slip into her eager, willing mouth...

"I, uhm, I'm sorry Hawke, I'll catch up with you later. I'm feeling a bit... light headed."

He just snickered as she fled, and she knew she had to either kill something, douse herself in freezing water or fuck someone. She couldn't decide what was best.


	33. Chapter 33

_**Hawke**_

_Shit._

_Shit, shit, shit._

He already had adrenaline pumping through his system after his "interrogation" of Anders, which was more a way to make the bastard pay for what he'd done to Ashe at this point, since he couldn't get anything useful out of the lunatic.

So his blood was hot and his pulse was up when she waved him over, looking like a fucking dessert to a starving man, with tight, black leather leggings, a matching leather bodice, pauldrons and strips of white fabric wound tightly down the length of her arms. Her dark red hair flowed down her back and her lips, _Maker_, they looked so full and red, like she'd been biting them all day.

She asked him about his day, a delighted look in her eye as she spotted the blood on him, and he did _not _miss the fire that lit up in her gaze as she did so. Like it turned her on, and that wasn't helping his pulse slow down one bit.

He _shouldn't _be thinking of her like that anymore. He should have already left, like he'd reasoned with himself was the best thing for everyone.

He answered her and slicked his messy hair back with his hand to try to calm himself. He couldn't help a quiet laugh escaping as he saw her continue to stare at him, apparently lost in thought, and he could only imagine how her own thoughts were likely as impure as his own.

"So, busy as ever? I've barely seen you around."

She didn't answer him.

"Princess, you hearing me or are you too busy biting your lip off?" he asked and smiled slyly.

_Stop, stop, stop, you're killing me with the biting._

_Don't stop. Ugh, please stop._

He could feel himself growing uncomfortably hard.

To both his relief and disappointment, Ashe excused herself and hurried inside, out of sight.

_This is not good._

He had to leave. Before it was too damn late.

An hour later, he had his things packed and was ready to slip out, preferably quietly. He knew it was terrible of him, but he didn't know how Ashe would react if she found out he was leaving. Most of all, he was afraid that he would be unable to deny her if she asked him to stay.

Dark was approaching and he decided to use the fading light of dusk to leave. He almost made it to the front gate before his name was called behind him.

"Hawke! Wait!"

Hawke turned around, surprised at hearing who it was.

"Commander?"

Cullen was striding toward him and stopped short just in front of him.

"You're leaving?" he asked.

"Yes. I have business to attend to, and..." Hawke started but Cullen interrupted him.

"You can't. Not now," Cullen said and shook his head.

"Why not? I'm not getting any further with Anders at this point, Ashe can decide what to do with him."

"It's not that. Someone needs to stay here and watch over her. She might seem fine right now but I worry about her, about how she'll feel without any of us here."

"What in Thedas are you on about, man? Who's 'us'?" Hawke asked, not following Cullen's babbling attempt to speak his mind.

"You know. Me, you or Alistair. The ones who saved her. She feels safe with us. I have to leave Skyhold for a while. And believe me, I would rather _not _leave her alone with you, but her feeling safe is more important to me than my personal feelings on the matter."

Hawke raised both his eyebrows. "I'll admit, that surprises me." He ignored the other man's grunt. "So, where are you off to?"

"That's my business."

"And I have business of my own, like I told you. So I'll be the judge of who's business is more important, thank you very much."

Cullen scowled but eventually nodded. "Fine. I've recieved word from Mahariel. She needs me in Denerim, sooner rather than later."

That certainly piqued Hawke's curiosity.

"Rushing to Lady Mahariel's side so quickly, abandoning Ashe in the process? What's one to think about that, Commander?"

Cullen pointed his finger at Hawke's chest. "Don't twist my words, you imbecile. Mahariel is an old friend, and if she needs something from me, it's not something to be taken lightly. She would never ask if it wasn't important, and I'll have you know..."

Hawke snickered at the red-faced man in front of him. "I'm messing with you, dear old Knight-Captain. Do what you have to do, I don't really care. And of course I'll stay, for Ashe. Not that I think she needs any watching over, but I guess I can keep her company. In _any _way that she pleases." He couldn't help adding that last bit, just to see Cullen's face scrounge up some more.

"Hey, you asked for it, old man," Hawke said and made a mock bow in front of Cullen before he walked away to the sound of curses being yelled after him.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

"What do you mean, he left?" she said, her tone strained with barely kept composure.

"The Commander, he, uhm..." The messenger before her searched for words under her stern gaze, obviously afraid of her. Ashe couldn't care less.

"Spit it out."

"He was summoned on urgent business. Denerim."

"What? What do you mean _summoned_? Why would Alistair call on my Commander?" Ashe had a bad feeling about this.

"No, Your Worship, I hear it wasn't His Majesty that requested the Commander's presence. He recieved a letter from the Lady Hero."

Ashe blinked, stunned. "Do you mean Lady Mahariel?"

The messenger nodded, swallowing hard as Ashe's expression darkened. She motioned for the woman to leave, which she did in a hurry. Ashe was left dumbfounded in her throne, and despite several nobles and guards milling about the hall, she felt utterly alone, and confused.

Why had Mahariel summoned Cullen? And why in Thedas had he left without telling her? She didn't know if she was supposed to be angry, since he'd left on an unknown mission without his Inquisitor's approval, or if she felt more sad and betrayed that he didn't even care enough about her to talk to her before he left. It contradicted everything he'd said and done to her.

Alistair gone, Cullen gone. She supposed this was what she deserved. She was damaged goods, after all. She hated herself for thinking it, but something had definitely changed after what had happened to her with Anders. If not for her, then for them. If it was pity or disgust, she didn't know.

She felt miserable, absolutely miserable, and she couldn't even manage to get up from her throne and retreat to her chambers for privacy.

She was seconds away from letting her tears fall from her eyes when she caught sight of Hawke exiting the hall leading from the guest chambers. He spotted her and waved happily at her, mouthing 'Hey!', cheery as ever.

The Maker knew she could need some uplifting company, but if he was on his way to see Anders, she wouldn't stop him. She'd seek him out later. Until then, she'd have to wallow in her misery a bit longer.

* * *

After a couple of drinks and a whole slew of Hawke's obscene jokes, Ashe had almost forgotten how awful she was really feeling. The tavern was buzzing with excitement that evening. It wasn't exactly an everyday occurance that the Inquisitor herself joined her subjects drinking and dancing, and she really did enjoy herself.

"Your cup is empty, princess," Hawke said with feigned shock.

"So be a gentleman and get me another then?" she said and batted her eyelashes at him with her best puppy eyes.

Hawke laughed. "Gentleman? Where did you get that idea? Haven't you heard? I'm a filthy apostate. Or was it pirate? Or sly weasel, as all the merchants of Kirkwall used to love shouting after me. I think I prefer pirate, actually. Sounds more adventerous, don't you think?"

"Fucking a pirate doesn't make you one, Greyer," Ashe said and playfully hit his shoulder.

"My Lady! Such language. I've never done any such thing. I might have lain with one, had sexual intercourse with..."

"Oh, Maker, stop it, you sound like a blushing maiden, it's creeping me out!" Ashe laughed. "Now get your pirate ass out of that chair and fetch me another drink, or I'll find someone who will."

"You wound me, My Lady." Hawke tried to look serious and failed miserably and Ashe's heart rate sped up as his dazzling smile broke through. "But for you, I'll do it anyway." He swept up her cup from the table and walked over to the bar. She watched the back of him until someone got in the way and obscured her view.

"I'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself, Inquistor."

Ashe looked up and smiled. "Hello, Leliana. What brings you down here?"

The other redhead sat down opposite her. "I heard you were asking around about Cullen earlier. To be honest, I don't know a thing about it. I've only heard the same rumors as you, that Mahariel wanted him to come, so he left. Nothing terrible about it, I suppose, he left all his officers in charge of his responsibilites, they're capable men. Besides, nothing serious is going on right now, anyway. Do you want me to look into it?"

Ashe felt her mood sour immediately. But she definitely needed to know what in the Fade Cullen was playing at. "Yes, please do. I don't care if he's left people in charge, he has to answer to me, he can't just go rogue like this whenever he pleases. It makes me look stupid, that I can't even keep track of my own general."

Leliana nodded. "Unfortunately, I agree. It was uncalled for to leave so hastily, without briefing us first." The spymaster looked over to the bar and raised her eyebrow when she spotted Hawke. "Oh, the Champion is still here?"

"Why wouldn't he be?" Ashe asked, ears prickled.

"Some of my scouts saw him head for the gate yesterday, fully armored and packed. I thought he was leaving. Especially since he's already informed me that he's getting nowhere with Anders."

Ashe felt her stomach sink like a rock through water. He wanted to leave, too? She got up from her chair. "Excuse me, Leliana."

She turned around and walked out of the tavern, her step a little unsteady, both from the alcohol and from the sick feeling of rejection in her stomach. The cool evening air did little to calm her, in fact, the quiet only made her feel more isolated.

"Hey! Hey, Ashe, stop! Where are you going?"

She kept walking, even as she heard that it was Greyer calling out to her, but he caught up with her quickly and put himself in front of her, forcing her to stop.

He looked surprised when he saw tears falling down her cheeks. "What's wrong, princess?" he asked and reached out to touch her, but she slapped his hand away.

"What do you care? You just want to leave like everybody else. Well, I'm not going to stop you," she sniffled and tried to step around her, but he wouldn't let her.

"Ashe, what are you babbling about? I'm right here, aren't I?"

"So who convinced you to stay?"

He looked taken aback by that. "I-I..."

"I knew it!" she yelled. "You really were leaving, without telling me? Why is everyone acting so fucking strange? It's still me, despite what Anders... what he did to me. I mean, I know I'm not as desirable anymore, not after what you all saw, but..."

Hawke's face hardened. "Stop talking such utter nonsense. Not desirable? _That's _not the fucking problem, Ashe, for Andraste's sake. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but you know I have other business to attend to, you knew I couldn't stay here forever."

"So why don't you just get the fuck out of here right now, then?" she said, trying very hard not to let her voice break. She was so angry, so humiliated. Even Hawke, her best friend and her strongest supporter, wanted to leave. She shoved him hard in the chest. She knew it was childish of her but it felt good to take her anger out on something.

He grabbed her wrists and held her in an iron hard grip until she stopped struggling. "I didn't leave because I couldn't leave _you_. But if you want me to go, I will. If you're only reacting like this now because you feel lonely without Alistair or Cullen, I'll leave right now."

She didn't miss the flicker of hurt that passed in his eyes as he said the last words.

_Andraste forgive me, why am I being such a bitch?_

She relaxed and he loosened his grip, letting her hands slide down into his.

"Please don't think that, Greyer. I won't pretend I'm not angry with Cullen, he's my general and he just up and left, he made me look weak. But I want you here because I enjoy your company."

Hawke's eyes softened, but he looked very sad. "And I enjoy yours, princess. Far too much."

He let go of her and turned around and started walking toward the keep.

"Wait!" she called out and he stopped, his back still to her. "What... what do you mean, 'too much'?"

She could see him shaking his head. He glanced back at her. "If you want me to stay a while longer, I will. But just as friends. I can't handle anything else."

Ashe felt hurt and relieved at the same time. Relieved he would stay, and a little hurt and confused about the 'just friends'-part. They'd never had a problem being more than that before. But she nodded, desperate to make him stay.

"I need to sleep this off, I'm sorry, princess. We'll speak tomorrow," he said and this time, she didn't know what to say, so she let him go.

* * *

The following week, Ashe tried to make up for her childish outburst outside the tavern. She didn't want Hawke to think that she was immature, so she invited him to spar with her, to take walks in the garden now that the weather was warming up. She made a point to clear her schedule as often as she could to spend time with him, and she tried to respect his wish to keep their relationship friendly and nothing more. It was hard at times, since he was so easy to talk to and he made her laugh so much. He was too funny, handsome and just the right amount of sarcastic, honest and downright hot to ignore, but she tried not to think about it. Tried not to look at him too much when they sat opposite each other playing a game in the garden, tried not to feel warm inside when his fingers brushed her skin when he showed her something in a book. She tried very hard not to drool when he tossed his shirt to the side when he sparred with her, barely making it through without doing it.

She was proud of herself for acting like an adult, and he seemed to loosen up more as more time went by, and seemed pleased that she was lauging so much.

She did an excellent job, right up until it all started to unravel. She'd been raiding the kitchen with him late one night after staying up for far too long, playing chess in his room. The cook almost caught them and they ran giggling and laughing through the dark corridors of Skyhold with the cook yelling after them, after having gorged themselves on sweets and wine that were actually meant for a visiting party of dignitaries arriving the next morning. The angry cook had almost caught up with them when Hawke pulled Ashe through a door and wounded up in a linen closet. It was dark and cramped, and she could barely see his face as he clamped his hand over her mouth to stop her from laughing.

"Has he left?" Hawke whispered and looked at the door. Ashe watched his face through the gloom, only a few rays of light reaching in through cracks in the door.

Maker, he was so sexy with his flushed cheeks, his black and (for now) neatly trimmed beard. She became acutely aware of how close they were standing, practically pressed together in the cramped space. Heat rolled of his body and she told herself she was only pressing closer since she was a little bit cold. He looked at her when she shivered.

"You cold, princess?" He moved his hand from her mouth to her neck, pulling her closer to him. She gasped softly as she stumbled into him and felt his leg between hers. He inhaled sharply at the contact, and Ashe was sure that he was going to pull away. When he didn't, she decided to try her luck.

"I think I can still hear him out there."

Hawke smiled. "I guess we're stuck in here a little longer then. All because you had to have a snack, Your Worship."

She hit him lightly in the chest. "Hey! Wasn't it you who agreed it was a fantastic idea?"

He pulled her tighter against him to stop her from hitting him again. "Don't know what you're talking about," he whispered, still smiling.

Her hands slipped down his back, and she could feel him shudder underneath her fingertips. His leg moved ever so slightly between hers again, and she pressed herself against him even tighter, heat building up in her core. She could feel him growing hard against her.

"Greyer... you make me so wet," she whispered and he groaned at her words, fisting his hand in her hair.

"Fuck, we shouldn't..." he whispered back.

Her fingers played with the lining to his breeches. "Why?" she breathed, shutting her eyes and tilting her head back as his lips touched the skin of her neck.

"I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

"So don't," she whispered. "I want you, Greyer. Don't you want me?"

He laughed harshly at that, humorless. "Don't be silly. I'm sure you can feel how much I want you," he murmured and placed her hand against his erection.

"So what's stopping you?"

He stared at her for a moment, before she began stroking her hand against the fabric trapping his cock underneath. With a growl, he pushed her back into the shelf behind her, and pulled her leggings down before he freed himself from his breeches.

She moaned loudly when he rubbed his finger against her slit before he slipped a finger into her and started to work on her. He nibbled at her neck when she wrapped her hand around his cock.

"Maker, _yes, _bite me harder," she moaned.

He pushed another finger into her. "You're such a filthy girl," he hissed before he bit her, hard, marking her neck and her shoulder. She shuddered in pleasure and she was so wet, desperate to be filled up by his hard cock.

"Keep talking to me like that, you make me so fucking horny," she whispered shifted so that his cock was angled against her cunt.

"You just couldn't help yourself, huh? Such a bad, bad girl, even after I've told you we shouldn't do this. You fucking temptress." Her blood turned to fire as his voice growled in her ear. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you'll have to be carried out of here."

"Where will you carry me?" she asked, breathless as he sucked on her lower lip, still fucking her with his fingers and rubbing his cock against her wet pussy.

"I'll carry you to my bed, and then I'm going to fuck you until the sun comes up."

He grabbed his cock and shoved it into her.

"Oh, Maker," he groaned and started to thrust himself into her, slow at first, savouring her around him.

"I want you to fill me up like a whore, please..."

"Ugh... Are you, Your Worship? Are you nothing but a filthy, sweet little whore? So young and already so fucking depraved..." he grunted, fucking her so hard that she gasped with each thrust.

"Ye-yes, ohh, holy mother, that feels so _good_... Keep fucking me, just like that, please..."

"Please, what?" he hissed and tightened his hands around her waist.

"Please, ser. Please, harder..."

"Do you want me to leave bruises on you, filthy girl?"

She responed by putting her hands over his and squeezing even harder, gasping as the pain mixed with the immense pleasure of having him inside of her. He lowered his head and sucked on one of her hard, pink nipples, making her squirm and moan far too loud.

He clamped his hand over her mouth. "Keep quiet, girl, or I'm going to have to put my cock in your mouth to shut you up."

She only moaned harder at that.

"Suit yourself," he whispered and then he pushed her down to her knees. She opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out and Hawke wasted no time pushing his rock hard cock into her, throwing his head back as the warm wetness of her mouth enngulfed him.

"That's it, good girl..." he murmured and grabbed the hair at the back of her head to set the pace just how he wanted it.

She licked and sucked and took him as deep into her throat as she could, jerking the base of his cock in the same rythm while she touched herself, desperate to release the pressure building in her. She rubbed her swollen clit while listening to his moans of pleasure, pride surging through her when he cursed as she hit him just right with the back of her tongue.

"Ahh, do you want it princess? Do you want to drink my cum?" he groaned, voice strained and panting.

She nodded eagerly and re-doubled her effort to make him feel good.

"Fuck, here it comes," he whispered, his voice a hoarse mess as he came, moaning hard as he filled her mouth with his seed. Ashe swallowed and swallowed, greedily lapping up every last drop of him. He trembled when she swiped her tongue over him a final time before he pulled her up to her feet, holding his arms around her while leaning against the shelf.

Her smile faded and they both tensed when they heard footsteps approaching in the corridor outside.

She held up a finger against her lips and strained to hear who it was.

Two women? It must have been the servants.

"Shit, they're probably going to come in here to get new linen for the guest bedrooms they're making ready for tomorrow," Ashe whispered. Hawke dragged her with him a little further back and managed to squeeze them both in behind another shelf just as the door opened.

"I can't believe it! It's the news of the year, this is!" one of the servants said. Ashe could see through the shelf that there were three girls with baskets in their hands, all picking out fresh linen just as she'd thought. Fortunately, they didn't seem to notice her or Hawke.

"How in the bleedin' Fade do you know this already? No one knows yet, or we would 'ave heard of it, I'm sure!" another one of the girls said.

"'Cause Rico fancies me, and he's the one who handled the raven that brought the letter with the news. It didn't take much to coax it out of him," the first girl giggled.

"It's so romantic! The Hero of Ferelden, back from the dead, and now she's getting married!"

Ashe's stomach dropped. Alistair had sworn that things were over between them.

"I know! It's certainly going to put a stop to those rumors about her and the King. Did you hear that he actually fancies our Inquisitor?"

_What? Didn't they just say..._

"Of course, anyone with eyes could see how he looked at Lady Trevelyan when he visited. Her Worship must be over the moon, can you imagine? She could be Inquisitor _and _Queen of Ferelden! Oh, it'll be so grand! But of course, that would have to wait until after Lady Mahariel has married Commander Cullen."


	34. Chapter 34

_**Ashe**_

"It's just a load of crap gossip, Ashe, don't take it seriously."

She didn't listen to Hawke as she flew up the stairs to Leliana's tower. A thousand things ran through her mind as she ascended, ranging from confusion to disbelief and feeling like she'd been put through a ridiculous prank of some sort.

Cullen marrying Mahariel? It just couldn't be true.

"Ashe, calm down and listen to me!" Hawke insisted, right at her heels.

"I'll fucking calm down when Leliana tells me it's not true," she muttered and breathed a sigh of relief when she caught sight of the spymaster when she reached the top of the stairs. The relief was, however, very short-lived. The answer to the burning question in Ashe's mind was plain to see in Leliana's face as soon as their eyes met.

"So it's true, then?"

"Inquisitor. It's the middle of the night, how do you know already? Maker, I'll whip that boy for yapping about things he shouldn't!"

Ashe couldn't care less about that. "The letter. Let me see it."

Leliana snatched up the paper from the desk behind her and handed it to Ashe.

After a minute, she looked up and stared at Leliana. "Is this a joke?" The spymaster shook her head.

"What did it say?" Hawke asked quietly.

Ashe felt too shocked to speak and was grateful when Leliana stepped in to do it for her.

"Cullen informed us that he will be resigning as Commander effective immediately, and that he will be marrying Lady Mahariel within the week."

"Are you serious? That doesn't sound like him at all," Hawke said. "Did he give a reason? Are you sure it's from him and not just some prank someone is playing on you?"

"I agree, it's all very unexpected. But it's his handwriting," Leliana said. "Of course, I can't rule out that someone made him write this, but I haven't heard of anything suspicious or unusual going on."

"I should think this classifies as unusual," Ashe muttered.

"Well, yes, but you know what I mean, Inquisitor."

"He can't just quit!" Ashe exclaimed and put her hands out in front of her. "He just can't! I mean, he's free to do whatever he wants, but the Inquisition is his _life_, for Andraste's sake. This is all just too fucking weird."

"Maybe he's looking for a quiet life, to settle down," Leliana said and placed her chin in her hand, looking up at the ceiling as if lost in thought. "I've known Cullen a long time, and I've always suspected he'd want to find a nice girl to settle down with eventually. And I know he wants to be a father, preferably to a whole throng of children."

"A 'nice' girl, you say? To settle down with?" Hawke sounded amused as he spoke. "Solid job he's done then, falling in love with our girl here. I mean no offense Ashe, but you – domesticated, pretty-little-wife material? I should think not," he snorted.

Ashe stared daggers at him, but quickly gave in and shrugged. "True," she admitted. "But _I'm _not the one he's set to marry," she added dryly.

Hawke barked a laugh in response. "Like Mahariel is any better? That's even more outlandish if Leliana's thoughts are anywhere near the mark. Mahariel's a Grey Warden, tangled up with the King, Maker, can she even have children since she's a Warden?"

"For fuck's sake, why are we even talking about this? This is all pure speculation from you, Leliana!" Ashe said and stabbed her finger in the spymaker's direction. "He's been courting _me _all this time, and he's never mentioned anything about any fucking settling down or - or _children_," she almost spat the word,"quite the opposite, in fact! In another life, perhaps. Not in this . He's a savage, really, and you all know it. Not that I'm complaining..."

"Oh, puh-lease," Hawke complained but Ashe waved it away to the sounds of Leliana's giggling.

"I shall have to travel to Denerim to speak to him about all this, sort it out. I assume that letter also held an invitation to this so-called wedding?"

Leliana cleared her throat as if embarrassed and looked anywhere except at Ashe, who just blinked when the implications worked their way through her head.

"He didn't _invite _me?" she said slowly.

"Erh-hum. Yes, well... It seems that way, yes."

"That mother-fu-

* * *

When Ashe arrived at the palace in Denerim a few days hard ride later, she was immediately taken to Alistair's office. The guards all waited outside, closing the door behind them. Ashe observed Alistair as he rose from the chair behind his desk. He had a plain white shirt on, with a black and gold vest on top. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he had ink stains on his fingers, and a smudge of it on his forehead. It looked adorable, but her attention was quickly caught by the muscles rippling underneath the skin of his arms as he braced himself against the desk and pushed himself up. She hummed appreciatively as his hand raked through his dirty blond hair, trying to slick it down, but it still stood up, golden and unruly. That damned hair made her knees weak.

He smiled at her as he walked forward to greet her, opening his arms with every step. She hadn't known what to expect from him, but if he was depressed or angry over this thing with Cullen and Mahariel, he didn't let it show. She let him embrace her and she closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar scent, letting it wash over her. She loved the smell of him – an unusual but delightful mixture of leather, honey and ink.

"It's so good to see you, Ashe," he murmured, and she shivered all over as the deep rumble of his voice hit every nerve in her.

"And you, Alistair. I've missed you." She really had.

He leaned back to look at her, beaming at her words. Maker, he was adorable. He kissed her then, and she sighed and melted into him, kissing him back. It quickly intensified and a throaty moan left him when her tongue found his. He stumbled back into the desk, pulling her with him, and she reveled in feeling his strong arms around her. She pushed herself tighter against him and _oh_, the _sound _he made when she made contact with his erection, he was already so hard for her. She almost fell to the floor when he licked the skin of her neck before biting it. She pulled her leg up and snaked it around his, trying to get closer. When he reached out to grab her calf, he pulled back as soon as he touched her boot.

"Andraste, you're still in your riding gear, sweetest... Forgive my manners, I was just so excited to see you. You must be exhausted."

She almost whined in protest when he stood up straight and pushed her off him gently.

_Curse these fucking boots..._

"Not that I'm not loving this unexpected visit, Ashe, I just wish you'd have sent a raven before you came so that I could have cleared my schedule for you. Now I'm stuck here all afternoon in meetings when I could be entertaining your beautiful self instead," Alistair said and pouted with his lips, threading his fingers through her locks, staring at her mouth again.

Ashe shivered but resisted the temptation of kissing him.

"I did send a raven. Didn't you recieve my letter?"

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "No. How strange."

"Yeah... Anyway, I need to see my Commander."

Alistair stiffened and let go of her. "I thought he was no longer in your employ."

"I'm not sure he and I have finished discussing that little matter. In fact, we haven't discussed it at all. Don't you think this is all highly unusual?" she asked, and watched as Alistair returned to the chair behind his desk, leaving her at the other end of the wooden surface.

"I don't concern myself with Cullen's business," he said and looked slightly irritated. Ashe ignored it.

"Not even if his business involves marrying your ex-girlfriend? What do you think of all this, why are they getting married all of a sudden? I need to talk to him before he does anything stupid."

Alistair's eyes hardened. "Ashe, you _do _know that they are already married?"

Ashe's stomach dropped. "Wh-what?"

Alistair nodded. "Yesterday morning. I was too busy to attend, and it was a small ceremony anyway." His expression was unreadable. "Mahariel is the new Mrs. Rutherford."


	35. Chapter 35

_**Alistair**_

Whatever guilt he might have felt for lying to Ashe about not recieving her letter evaporated as soon as she mentioned Cullen.

He hadn't told anyone that she was coming, had refused to risk Cullen finding out and then maybe change his mind about the marriage to Mahariel. In fact, as soon as Alistair had finished reading Ashe's letter, he'd burned it and did what he could to speed things up. Fortunately, Mahariel had listened to him and had even agreed to push the ceremony forward. It was in everyone's best interest, he'd said.

He was lying, of course. Because how could it, in any way, be in Mahariel's best interest to marry that dog of a man? And perhaps it was cruel of him to make her believe that he was beginning to feel the corruption already, but it was a necessary evil. She'd stared at him as if he'd gone out of his mind when he'd first suggested to her what he thought needed to be done, but she'd come around. He'd seen it on their journey back from Skyhold to Denerim, that she still – despite everything – had a soft spot for him. And making her believe that his Calling was drawing near had the desired effect.

He sighed and continued to listen to the others in front of him with only one ear – the meeting was dreadfully dull, as usual. He was anxious about what Ashe was going to say to Cullen, as she was no doubt meeting with him that very moment. She'd taken the news about Mahariel already being married to Cullen quietly but calmly. She'd said "I see," and then promised to come and see Alistair later that night, after sorting through all the practical things concerning Cullen's resignation, as she'd put it. Alistair was sure she was more upset than she let on but was encouraged by the fact that she wasn't so devastated that she couldn't control herself in front of him. All he could hope for now was that Cullen didn't mess things up.

* * *

_**Ashe**_

She didn't get it. She simply didn't get it. It had barely been a few weeks since she last saw Cullen, and by seeing him she meant he'd fucked the lights out of her and then she'd fallen asleep in his arms while he whispered to her how beautiful she was.

If he'd grown tired of her, she couldn't fault him for it. She was involved with Alistair, and perhaps even Hawke, at least a little bit. But Cullen had always known that, and had claimed time after time that he'd fight for her until she told him that he wasn't wanted anymore. And she'd told him no such thing, and yet he'd still left without even saying goodbye, and now he was married to someone else.

What she was doing now was beyond humiliating, but it had to be done. She took a deep breath and approached the gate to the large mansion that lay beyond it, only a short distance away from the palace. She wasn't surprised that Mahariel had been given such a lavish estate. She was the Hero after all, and now she had a Fereldan husband as well.

_How fucking perfect for her, _she thought with a sneer.

She was let in by the guards and escorted into the house itself. She was made to wait in a lavishly furnished parlor, and she sat down and took in her surroundings while waiting. It was luxurious but impersonal. Ashe assumed that Mahariel spent little or no time here, and why would she? She had things to do, an entire keep and arling to run up north. This estate must be meant for visits to the capital.

After a few minutes, Cullen opened the door and closed it behind him with a hint of a slam. He looked to be in a hurry, fully armored and in the process of putting his gloves on. Ashe flinched when his expression soured as he caught sight of her.

"I hear congratulations are in order," she said, keeping her tone neutral. She didn't know what she was getting into here.

"What do you want, Ashe?" His voice sounded strained, like he was fightnig not to yell. It hurt, but she was determined not to let it show.

"Is it true? That you're leaving your position as commander?"

"Well, what did you expect?" he snorted. "Did you expect me to stay?"

"I... guess not. Still, a little heads up would have been nice," she said, trying to keep calm.

He closed the distance between them at that, got right up in her face and jammed his finger against her shoulder, making her jump back in shock.

"Are you fucking kidding me? A little 'heads up'? I don't owe you a Maker damned thing, little girl." He spat out the last words with such animosity that Ashe was helpless to stop the tears welling up in her eyes. He _knew _that was the worst thing he could call her, knew how much she hated it. What in Thedas had she done to him to deserve this? But as he turned his back on her, the hurt quickly turned into anger. She just needed to sort out the details and then get out of there.

"Have you a suggestion for a successor, then? As the new Commander, I mean." She tried to say it without her voice shaking, but she failed miserably and her treacherous tears overflowed and ran down her cheeks.

"I'm sure you'll sort that out just fine by yourself," he said and turned around to face her again. When he saw her crying, he looked surprised and then he cast his eyes down as if he was momentarily ashamed. She had no idea why. Did it shock him that behaving like a fucking bastard would hurt her feelings?

"I- I could write down a few names of good men who you could consider," he said, sounding considerably softer than before.

"Good. Send it to Leliana, I don't have time to wait for that now."

Cullen's eyes instantly hardened again. "Off to see Alistair, then?"

"Yes, of course, why else would I have come all the way to Denerim?" she said, pouring as much spite into her words as possible. Cullen probably didn't even care, but if there was a slight chance that she could hurt him, she'd gladly take it.

"Well, if there wasn't anything else?" he said and gestured toward the door. "My wife and I are leaving for Amaranthine shortly, I need to hurry all my business along."

So that was what she was reduced to now – business?

_Go screw yourself, you mean bastard. _"Nothing else, no. If there's any of your belongings you want sent to... to wherever it is you're going to live, please write it down in the letter to Leliana, and I'm sure she'll sort it out. Again, congratulations." She nodded to him and he muttered something she didn't quite catch. She didn't care enough to ask him to repeat himself and she let herself out. She dried her tears quickly, knew she couldn't be seen like this. She was sad and angry, but mostly disappointed in herself for being such a poor judge of character. Cullen had almost had her fooled, Maker, how could she had been so blind? It must have all been a hunger for power for him, and as soon as an easier alternative had presented itself, he'd run off to take it. Why stay and fight for Ashe's attention when he could marry the Hero of Ferelden, the Commander of the Grey, and rule Amaranthine and who knew what other things with Mahariel?

Ashe wiped away the last wet traces on her cheeks while walking back to the palace. Alistair had been right all along, he'd never trusted Cullen. At first she thought it was just rivalry, but now she understood. He'd warned her so many times not to trust the other man, but had she listened? Yet Alistair had stood by her, always, even when she'd hurt him. She swore to herself that she would make it up to him.

* * *

_**Alistair**_

He'd recieved a report even before Ashe had returned to the palace. She'd been seen leaving Mahariel's estate drying tears from her eyes, looking unhappy but determined. Alistair breathed a sigh of relief as one of his most trusted spies had whispered his observations in his ear. It could only mean that things had gone badly with her and Cullen, and nothing could make him happier. Well, except maybe for one thing.

He called over a servant and gave him very precise instructions.

"You got all that? Everything must be perfect tonight. Do this right and you're in for a promotion, my friend," Alistair said and the servant's eyes beamed with pride.

"Yes, Your Majesty, I'll see to every detail personally, I won't let you down."

"Good man. Hurry along now."

The man did as he was told and Alistair was left alone with his thoughts. If everything went the way it was supposed to, how he'd carefully planned the events of the last few weeks, Ferelden would soon have a new Queen.


	36. Chapter 36

_**Alistair**_

He sat in his quarters that evening, waiting for Ashe to arrive. He'd made sure that the setting was perfect - flowers everywhere, a fire burning in the fireplace casting a golden glow over his living room along with the hundreds of lit candles. He'd outfitted himself in his usual casual clothes, which were undeniably fancy for 'casual', but he was king after all. He didn't even own anything less dressy than the white shirt and the golden vest with silver and blue embroidery he had on. He'd made sure his hair looked good, standing almost straight up, a bit messier now in private than how he wore it officially with his crown. He liked it more like this.

As he sat there staring into the fire, pondering how many days it would take to win over Ashe completely and how to propose to her, his mind inevitably drifted to Mahariel. He remembered when there was a time in his life he would have done anything to make her his wife, before it had all gone to shit. He'd adored her when he first met her – she'd been such a mystery of a woman, he'd been fascinated with her. But ever since she'd found out that he was Maric's bastard, she'd grown more and more distant, all the while pushing for him to be king, even though he begged her not to. He didn't want it, he only wanted her. He pleaded with her over and over to marry him and put someone else on the throne, because he knew exactly what would happen if he became Ferelden's ruler – he'd be forced to marry someone else. Mahariel would never be accepted by the people, she was an elf. Still, she insisted.

He came to resent her for it. His last, desperate attempt to make her stay was to start sleeping around with other women, hoping that one of them would get pregnant, and then he could just claim the child as his heir without any need to marry the mother. It would be frowned upon, he knew, but he was a bastard himself and he'd been accepted as king readily enough.

At least, that was how it had started. She grew colder and colder and he was tired of shouting at her with no response except for her staring at him like he was a child and then leaving, always leaving. He found warmth and comfort in the arms of others, even though it was only temporary. When she finally left for good, he felt more relieved than heartbroken, like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

And now that she was back in his life, after believing that she had been dead... He hadn't known what to to, or how to act. That night on the road, when they were traveling together from Skyhold to Denerim, she'd acted friendly, talking and even flirting with him with familiar ease. It had made him nervous at first, but when he went to his tent that night, he'd almost felt angry instead. She'd blamed him for their failed relationship, while he would never forgive her for pushing his rulership on him and thereby making it impossible for them to be together. And now she was here, more than a decade later, acting like this?

He wouldn't have it. He absolutely hated that he'd gotten nervous around her at all, and that she still treated him like a child. He was not the boy he once were, and from the next morning on, there was no more stuttering or blushing around her. He held himself up with far more dignity than the day before, letting nothing she said get to him. There was no point in being cold or impolite however, he figured it was better to stay civil until he knew if she was after something and what that was, or if she truly just wanted to be friends again, or worse – just screw with his emotions. He wouldn't put it past her. But there was no more uncertainty from him about what to say. He could tell she noticed the difference immediately, and she spoke to him with more respect, but still always friendly. As a few more days passed, he concluded that she probably still cared for him, in some way at least, if not romantically. And he'd been right, otherwise he could never have pulled off what he did with talking her into marrying Cullen.

If it lead to being able to get Ashe to marry him, any amount of deception was acceptable. His heart fluttered just thinking her name. When he'd first laid eyes on her in Skyhold, he'd felt something awaken in him that had been dead for ten years. Such excitement, and such a strong connection - he'd felt it in every nerve in his body. Her face was so interesting, with sharp angles but soft lips and piercing, blue eyes, almost at odds with her deep red hair, but it all drew him in so fast he could barely take his eyes off her. And she'd looked at him much the same way.

That was just the start. She was delightful – smart, witty, powerful, commanding, skilled beyond measure in combat – everything about her was perfect, except the competition. Of course, a young woman such as herself was not without other suitors. He just wished he'd gotten to visit her earlier, perhaps that would have spared him a lot of trouble. But he'd made sure and would continue to make sure that he was the only one for her. Not only because he was in love with her, but because he knew he was the best man for her. He could understand her position better than anyone, he would protect her and do anything she needed or wanted, love and support her for as long as she wanted him. And she would understand him. He wanted that desperately. Not to mention the fact that their chemistry was bordering on electric. They'd never once managed to be in a room alone together without some form of heated exchange.

Hopefully nothing would interrupt them this time. He didn't have it _all _planned out yet, though. He had no idea how upset she would be over what had happened with Cullen, he would have to figure out how to proceed once she got there. He would probably have to take things slowly at first.

There was a knock on the door and a guard pushed it open moments later.

"Lady Trevelyan for you, Your Majesty."

The guard stepped aside and let her in, closing the door behind him.

She took a few steps into the room and then Alistair's mouth dropped open.

_Shit. Shit, fuck, shit._

His plan to take things slowly would be very hard to proceed with now. His eyes darkened and he had to brace himself against the back of the chair in front of him. Who was he kidding? The plan would not only be hard to maintain, it hade gone flying out through the fucking window.


	37. Chapter 37

_**Ashe**_

She'd been such an idiot, hanging on to Cullen, letting him fool her into thinking that he loved her, instead of focusing on the fact that a king wascourting her.

_A king, for Andraste's sake._

She deserved to be called a stupid little girl by Cullen, because that was what she had been acting like.

But the fade could take that man. She should have listened to Alistair, or even to Hawke. He'd _told _her that Cullen had slept with the whole damned village in Emprise du Lion, and that was definitely after he started expressing an interest in her. Had she listened? No, because she knew she had no right to decide what he could and could not do. But she should have seen it as a sign of trouble. Trouble was all he'd gotten her, while she had treated Alistair – who had always supported her no matter how much she had hurt him – like he was on some sort of waiting list.

So when she stepped into the royal quarters that evening, she was highly determined to make it up to him. And when Ashe Trevelyan was determined, nothing would make her budge.

She could see how his eyes widened when she dropped her dress to the floor in one, fluid motion and revealed her gift to him.

She prayed to the Maker that he would like it. If he didn't, she would work around it, but she hoped that he would. Just the thought of it made her wet between her legs.

* * *

_**Alistair**_

Ashe was standing there right in front of him, her black dress dropped to the floor, wearing nothing but a collar and a long, leather leash. She had the end of the leash in her hand and played with it between her fingers. He was completely frozen in place by the sight, gripping the chair in front of him so hard that wood started to creak and groan beneath his fingertips.

She sauntered over to him and stopped only a breath away from him.

"I've been a bad, little girl, Alistair, and I know it. Please, punish me to your heart's content, wipe me clean of all my sins and we can start over."

He hesitated. His body screamed and cursed him for not springing into action, but he didn't want her to think that he desired for her to actually be punished for anything.

"Please, do this for me, for us. I promise it will feel good. And then, if you'll have me, I'm yours and only yours, Ali." She bit her lip and held out the hand holding the leash to him. His heart was racing for more reasons than he could count, but the sound of her nickname for him leaving her lips and the way her eyes darkened and burned when she motioned for him to take the leash did him in. He grabbed not only the leather but her whole hand with it and yanked her to him.

"So you like this, then?" he murmured and caressed her cheek with the end of the leather strap.

"Maker, yes."

"The Maker? I hope he's not watching," Alistair whispered in her ear and felt her shiver when his breath touched her skin, "because if he is, he'll likely condemn us both for what we're about to do."

If Ashe wanted wicked things done to her, then wicked, wicked things he would deliver.

"Kneel," he commanded and she dropped to the floor without a moment's hesitation. "Are you hungry? Do you want to be fed?"

She licked her lips and looked up at him through her dark lashes. "I'm fucking starving," she said and smiled at him like a desire demon who'd just found its new prey. Alistair imagined his own expression mirrored hers, judging from the look of pure excitement that lit up on her face when she looked him in the eyes.

He pulled on the strings to his breeches and freed his painfully hard erection from them. "So help yourself, and if you're a good little girl, I might just push it all the way down your hungry, little throat," he said and yanked the leash hard, forcing her forward. She was quicker than him, though, because she already had her mouth open and her tongue out and he almost fell backward when her wet, warm mouth enveloped his hard cock. He groaned as she licked the head before she started pushing him into her mouth. Not even ten seconds passed before she deep throated him so far down that he just stared in wonder as she let him fuck her mouth like an animal. No matter how hard he yanked at her collar, or how harshly he pulled at her hair, did she stop to take a breather. If anything, the harder he treated her the more she rubbed herself against him and moaned against his cock.

"Fucking fade, you feel so good," he hissed as she sucked on him and ran her tongue up the back of his length inside her mouth. He looked down on her, her crimson hair falling over her shoulders, her breasts bouncing up and down as she worked on him, wetness smeared on the inside of her thighs – he couldn't take the sight much longer, he needed to fuck the shit out of the goddess before him, he _needed _to make her squirm and quiver and shout his name as she came, over and over again.

He pushed her head away and pulled her up on her feet using the leash. "I know you're a bad girl," he said and bit her shoulder lightly, making her moan and press her legs together, "but now you're going to be good for me and do exactly as I say, won't you?"

She nodded eagerly. "Anything as long as you fuck me," she pleaded.

He shoved his hand down between her legs and ran his finger along her wet slit. "Are you sure about that? Have you heard of Grey Warden stamina? I might break you before I'm finished with you," he whispered and pushed a finger into her.

He could feel her clench around him and his cock screamed for him to shove himself into the tight, warm wetness of her cunt.

"I _want _you to break me," she said and smiled at him.

_Maker, help me, _he thought as he looked at her. She was pure sin, and he'd never been happier in his life.

He kissed her fiercely then, before biting her bottom lip so hard he could taste blood. She only moaned louder and he pushed her down against a table, stomach first, her ass grinding against him as he positioned himself between her legs.

"Andraste, _fuck_, oh-oh... _Fuck!_" she screamed as he slid into her. He pulled all the way out and, now coated in her juices, pushed himself in again, harder this time. He thanked the Maker for his Grey Warden stamina, or he wouldn't have lasted more than ten seconds, the feel of her was far too intense. But he did have the advantage of the inhumanly long endurance, and he just knew he was in for hours of pure, sinful bliss.

He slammed himself into her over and over, her moans and screams music to his ears while he grabbed her hips so hard it was sure to leave bruises, which only made her buck even more wildly beneath him.

She begged him to fuck her even harder, to ravage her, ruin her. When the table broke underneath them, Ashe just laughed delightfully and dragged him with her to a divan that was set against the wall by the fire.

Two hours later, the divan was broken in half, an entire bookshelf and its contents had fallen across the floor, a desk was turned over and two more chairs were left in shambles. It looked like a war zone, but neither of them could care less about that as Alistair was fucking Ashe against the wall, her legs hugging his hips tightly while he rubbed her clit as she screamed out yet another orgasm. Feeling her clench around his cock while she moaned his name was finally nudging him toward his own end.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he hissed between his teeth as she became even tighter around him after her orgasm. "Shit, I'm so close, so fucking close, shit..."

"Put me down and fuck my mouth, please, please Alistair," she begged. "I want to taste it, I want you to feed me your cum," she said and licked his neck.

He groaned, still not quite believing that this was actually happening, or that she wanted to do such filthy things with him. But he didn't need to be told twice and he dropped her down to the floor where she kneeled in front of him and started to jerk him off into her open mouth, sticking her tongue out to lick the tip of his cock before she started to suck on him so expertly that he saw stars. He knotted his fingers through her hair with one hand, urging her to go faster, while bracing himself against the wall behind her with his other hand.

"I can't... Oh, Maker, fuck... Ashe, ahh, it feels so good, don't stop, just a little more..."

"Give it to me, Ali, please, I want it so bad," she said and jerked him off again. "Feed it to me, I want to taste all of you, every single fucking drop."

He cursed and yelled out her name as he came, spurt after spurt of cum filling up her mouth. His vision blackened and he only managed to focus on her long enough to see her swallow eagerly, trying to catch every last drop of his massive load, just like she said. He panted violently and when he managed to open his eyes again and look at her, she licked up a few escaped drops from the corner of her mouth and looked very pleased.

"You can't be real, Ashe, this is just a dream, yes?" he mumbled and pulled her up to him. He hugged her tightly to him and snapped the bindings to her collar open, letting it fall to the floor. She laughed as he swept her up into his arms and carried her over to his bedroom.

"It's not a dream, Ali. But it felt like you were one. You weren't kidding about that Grey Warden thing, huh? Guess that makes me one very lucky girl."

He smiled, his heart swelling when he saw how happy she looked. Everything he'd done to get her here was worth it. Now his only focus would be to keep her this happy, so that she would hopefully agree to marry him when he asked. It was all he could wish for.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

"What had you expected, Cullen? You knew she had already said yes, surely you understand that they need to make an announcement soon? Before all the rumors start flying."

He didn't respond as Mahariel finished her sentence, but remained in silence in his saddle, his horse trotting down the road beside Mahariel on her own horse.

While she was right, he hadn't expected Ashe to come to Denerim so soon. He'd hoped that he wouldn't have to see her again, at least until his feelings for her would have had time to grow cold. As of now, they absolutely hadn't, no matter how hard he tried to let go.

He sighed and wondered for the hundreth time that day how his life had become such a mess again. He'd left Skyhold a happy man, so sure that Ashe was finally coming to a decision and that he was the one she was choosing. A hope that was crushed mere days after arriving in the capital. He'd met with Mahariel at her estate, just as she'd asked of him in her letter. She'd explained the situation and he'd respectfully declined to help her. She had asked too much of him. Mahariel had told him that she understood and invited him to stay for a few days, telling him he might as well stick around to spend some time with his old friend since he'd come all that way.

The day before he intended to go back to Skyhold, Mahariel returned from a meeting in the palace with a peculiar expression on her face. She asked him to reconsider his decision and before Cullen had time to protest, she told him of the news. She might as well have punched him in the gut.

Alistair had apparently grown tired of waiting and sent a raven with a letter of proposal to Ashe, an offer to make her his queen and shower her with all the love and riches she could ever want. Ashe had responded, and accepted. Mahariel had also told Cullen that she knew that Alistair had spoken to Ashe some time ago about possibly needing to step down as Inquisitor and disbanding the Inquisition as a whole, because he knew voices were being raised on the subject now that the Breach was sealed. And what would she do then?

Ashe had never shared such a concern with Cullen, but if she felt that the wind was blowing that way, Cullen supposed that it wasn't entirely unbeliavable that she would make new arrangements for herself. He wasn't sure which alternative was worse – Ashe being that desperate for power, or if she was actually in _love _with Alistair.

No, he _was_ sure which was worse. The first one he could deal with, understand even. He would actually prefer a position of wealth and power himself, after all the shit life had thrown at him. They would have prospered together, he and Ashe, with or without the Inquisition, he was sure of it.

But if she truly loved that fucking bastard... what could he do?

Angry and desperate, he had looked at Mahariel and found his answer. He would need a new job if the Inquisition were soon to disband, anyway, so accepting the position as Mahariel's steward in Amaranthine while she went on another search for a cure to the taint, seemed like the logical thing to do. But what had come over him when he'd asked her to marry him, he still couldn't find the answer to. He'd told her that it was because it would be easier for her people to accept her husband as ruler, but he knew that wasn't the whole truth. Maybe he'd just wanted to get back at Ashe, still hoping that she had _some _feelings left for him and that his moving on would sting just a little bit, at least. Mahariel had seemed hesitant at first, but after returning from yet another meeting in the palace, she agreed. Cullen was actually a bit surprised that Alistair had agreed, as well. He knew that the man hated him just as much as Cullen hated him back, and he wouldn't have put it past him to view Mahariel as his property. But he must have thought it was a good idea, somehow. It wasn't long before Mahariel insisted they get married right away, all the better to move up their travel plans to an earlier date, according to her.

So here he was, on the road to Amaranthine, married to Mahariel, who wouldn't even be around once she left him in charge of her arling. All so that she could save Alistair from his Calling. The same bastard who'd stolen Ashe from him. Ashe, who he loved so much it hurt, even though she had finally decided to betray him for good by marrying another man. He wished that he could hate her. But he knew in his heart that he never would.


	38. Chapter 38

_**Alistair**_

He slammed the door shut behind him and sagged against it, ignoring the raised eyebrows from his guards. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, then another, and another. It didn't help one bit. His heartbeat was clearly still trying to split his chest apart. It didn't exactly help that he could still hear Ashe giggling from the other side of the door.

_I need to go start the day, I have meetings to attend, but I'll try to be quick about it, _he'd said, pushing his crown up from where it had slid to the side of his unruly hair.

_Oh, you'll do better than try, Ali, _she'd responded. She'd proceeded to help him buttoning up the last bit of his clothing before she leaned forward as if to kiss him, but instead she had let her tongue glide along the side of his ear before she hummed into it, her hot breath making every hair on his body stand up. _I'm going to be right here when you get back. And since I've been such a good girl then, waiting for you, you'll play with me, won't you? _She'd kissed his earlobe. _You can play anything you want, anywhere you want. _Her warm tongue had snaked into his ear then, before she withdrew as quick as she'd entered, and bit his neck instead.

_Fuck the meetings, _he'd said.

_Ah-ah-ah. _She'd wagged her finger and shaken her head. _You go about your business, Your Majesty. And you'll do it quickly, since you're going to fuck the lights out of your hungry, little slut when you come back._

Laughing at his mouth hanging open, she'd opened the door behind him and pushed him out before retreating back into the room. He'd slammed the door shut, knowing that looking at her for one more second would break his resolve completely.

How the fuck was he supposed to concentrate now?

* * *

_**Cullen**_

He guessed that there were worse things in the world than being married to a hero. Everywhere they went together, they were greeted with admiration and respect. When they finally arrived in Amaranthine, it felt like every citizen was lining the streets to cheer and welcome their beloved arlessa home.

"Is it always like this?" he asked her, riding side by side with her through the busy streets.

"Not really. Being dead and then come back to life seems to have caused an impressive turnout," she said and he could see the hint of a smile on her face. She waved at the people and even greeted some of them by name. Cullen observed with amusement how some of the men were smacked out of their slack-jawed, dreamy staring by their annoyed wives. He could hardly blame them - Mahariel was almost unnervingly beautiful, and he couldn't help straightening up a little bit in his saddle, feeling almost proud that he was married to her. He would have been truly proud, of course, if she'd been his wife for more than practical reasons. Instead, his pride was more like a surge of primitive, male cockiness that came naturally when you brought the prettiest girl to the ball. He almost felt a little bad about it – she deserved better, she deserved something real. Instead, she was stuck with him - a brooding husband who'd spent the whole ride here sulking over another woman. He promised himself that he would try to make an effort to lighten up, to be a good friend to her. She would leave soon, he knew she had to, so he could at least try. He needed to get over his obsession with Ashe, anyway. Being a good husband to his wife would be a good start.

_Not that I have any idea of how to act like one, but I can fucking try. For her._

* * *

_**Alistair**_

His knuckles were white from gripping the table in front of him. He'd given up on actually listening to what the men around the table were saying and tried to concentrate on just standing up straight and generally just stayingin the fucking room. It was the last meeting of the day, and it was dragging on unbelievably slowly. Excruciatingly so, ever since a servant had arrived with a note for him a few minutes earlier. It was a simple, folded up little piece of paper with his name scribbled on it. He opened it and read it, and then he read it again, and again.

_Alistair,_

_You're keeping me waiting, and it's driving me mad. I'm starting without you soon, but I'd much rather feel your strong hands on me instead of my own. I want you to feel how dripping wet I am for you. I'm biting my lip right this second, imagining it was your teeth nipping at my flesh. I want you to fucking ruin me, Maker, you are too good to not think about. I can't concentrate on anything else, HURRY, please, please, please._

_Yours,_

_Ashe_

He'd folded the note again and put it in his pocket, where it felt like it was burning a hole in the fabric against his skin. Maker's breath, how he wanted to throw everyone out of there and run, or stumble more likely, straight to her. But he just couldn't afford to piss off the nobles and the freeholders gathered around the table.

When they finally finished their yapping, he immediately excused himself and shot like a lightning bolt straight to his quarters. He shoved the door open. Disappointment formed in his stomach when he didn't catch sight of Ashe anywhere. He called out to her but got no answer.

Finally, he saw a piece of paper sitting on his desk, neatly folded, just like the note he'd recieved from her earlier. He snatched it off the wooden surface and quickly scanned the words.

_Alistair, _

_I can't believe I'm writing this, but I have to postpone our time together this evening. Something came up and I can't ignore it. Duty calls, I'm afraid. But make no mistake – I can't wait to feel you inside of me. And I'll make it up to you, you better believe it. I keep my promises and then some._

_Dreaming of you,_

_Ashe_

He groaned and scrounged up the paper before tossing it in the fire. It was bad enough that she wasn't here, but did she _have _to write things like that? He wanted her so badly he thought he might explode if he didn't have her soon, and her words did nothing to calm his feverish blood. He threw himself down into a chair in front of the window and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. That little minx. He couldn't keep a smile off his face when he thought about what he would do to her later – how he would punish her for this, and how she would fucking love it.

He waited and waited, but she didn't come. The sky turned dark outside and he couldn't handle any more waiting around. It didn't take long for him to find her. She stood in the courtyard, wearing full Inquisition armor, her sword sheathed at her side, enduring the relentless downpour of rain with a stoic expression while she watched a whole throng of apparent recruits performing various exercises in front of her, illuminated both by torchlight and magic.

He ignored the rain and circled around the crowd and stood beside her, close enough to touch. She glanced at him and he noticed, rather pleased, how she couldn't keep herself from letting a little smile tug at the corner of her mouth as she saw him.

"Your Majesty," she said and inclined her head toward him.

"Inquisitor. Care to tell me about this spectacle? I tend to know about what's going on under my own roof, but you have me at a disadvantage here, I'm afraid."

"Technically, we're not under any roof right now, as you might have noticed from the rather annoying moisture falling from the sky," she said. "Although it matters little to me now that you've arrived. You would have made me soaking wet anyway." She said it as if she was speaking about what she had for lunch, and it was all he could do not to throw her down into the muddy grass and find out just how wet she really was. He pressed his arm against hers from the side, and even though she was wearing armor, the contact still sent a current through his body.

Making sure that no one else was listening, he spoke, his voice low and rumbling. "I want to taste you. I want to lick your warm, wet little cunt and see for myself if you're lying, if you're just teasing me. I would punish you severely if you did." His tone mimiced her casual one. It was music to his ears when he heard her inhale sharply as he spoke.

"Now you make me wish I _was _lying, Your Majesty. How..." she licked her lips, "how exactly would you punish me?"

"Maker, you're such an impatient little girl, aren't you? But alright, I'll tell you. First, I would push a finger into you, then another, and then I would coat your ass with your own slickness before I would spank you until you cried and begged for mercy."

Ashe looked unsteady on her feet and he could see her chest rise and fall rapidly. "Maker's breath," she murmured. "How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate now?"

He leaned over and put his lips against her ear. "Now you know what you've been doing to me all day long," he whispered, and then he licked her slowly, shielded from view by her hair.

"Andraste! Alistair, n-no more, I can't take it," she begged, her hand gripping his arm tightly.

"Come back with me then. What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"People from all over the city has come to plead themselves to the Inquisition. It's my duty... Oh-hh, Maker!" she whispered as he bit the side of her neck lightly. "M-my duty to see them and send the worthy ones to work. This is not a vacation, you kn... _Shit_, please, Alistair..."

He didn't know if she was pleading for him to stop or to go on. He didn't much care either. "You've seen enough. The King summons you, now. You have five minutes to finish up here, or there will be blood, sweat and tears to pay, do you understand?"

Her eyes were alight with an unearthly excited glow. "Oh _yes_, Your Majesty."

He smiled and walked away to the sound of the woman of his dreams barking orders and promising bloody murder to anyone who delayed the process.

Maker, how he loved her.

* * *

_**Cullen**_

He wondered why he hadn't heard any rumors about Ashe's engagement to the King yet. Gossip like that, about the wedding of the century, would spread like wildfire. But he'd heard nothing except the expected buzz about him being the new Arl of Amaranthine, and how exciting it was that their arlessa had finally married.

He tried not to think about it. He decided to go find Mahariel, he knew she was around somewhere. Thinking about her actually made him feel a bit better. When he'd spoken to her that morning, her golden hair had shone like a gem in the sunlight, and he'd actually had a hard time concentrating on what she was saying when he looked at those full, pink lips that moved so sensually when she spoke. He would be lying to himself if he claimed he'd never noticed how stunning she was before – but now that she was his wife, he was looking at her with new eyes, far more appreciatively. If he could just get over Ashe, if he could just push that girl out of his mind for more than five minutes, he might actually -

All those thoughts came to a halt when he heard Mahariel's melodious laugh echo between the walls. He turned a corner and saw her standing in one of the larger reception halls, hand in front of her mouth, clearly trying to control herself, and just as clearly failing.

When she bent forward in another burst of laughter, Cullen groaned loudly when he saw who was the reason for this apparently hilarious exchange.

_Maker take me, just kill me now. Fucking Hawke._


	39. Chapter 39

_**Hawke**_

"Apparently, I'd just walked straight out of there, not even bothering to put my clothes on first."

"No! In the middle of winter?" Mahariel asked, her mouth gaping as he told the story.

"Remember, I was piss drunk, I probably didn't even notice that I was as naked as the day I was born."

"Not... not even your underclothes?"

He shook his head and Mahariel cracked up and started laughing. "All because she happened to..."

"She didn't 'happen' to do anything!" Hawke interrupted. "She stuck her finger where she had no business sticking anything - deliberately! That much I can remember. The rest she told me later. She called me a prissy for weeks after that... Hey, stop laughing!"

But he smiled as she shook with laughter, her hand in front of her mouth. "That sure sounds like Isabela," she said when she'd calmed down. "Did you know she..."

"That she did the business with you and Alistair? Yes, wouldn't shut up about it, in fact." He leaned in closer to her. "Can't blame her, either. Well, Alistair was an example of poor taste, of course, no offense love, but _you _on the other hand, whew." He pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead. "Definitely can't blame her for wanting to get it on with you."

Mahariel made an exaggerated shocked face. "Hawke! I'm a married woman."

He just snickered. "Like that has ever stopped me before. Granted, sometimes it _has _sent me running with my clothes in my hands out of windows and back doors when angry husbands have arrived home too early. Speaking of husbands and poor attitudes, where do you keep your new little pet, Mahariel?"

She slapped his arm, but so lightly he hardly felt it, and he could see the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "Don't call him 'pet', Hawke. His name is Cullen."

"Remind me again, why _did _you marry him?"

"Because he asked. And I need someone here to keep an eye on the arling, you know that."

"That doesn't sound very romantic. Have you even done the only fun part of marriage yet?"

"No! There's been no time to even think about things like that."

Hawke shook his head and tsked. "That man is a disgrace. If I were married to a drop dead gorgeous woman like you, I would have fucked you to the high heavens so many times already, you wouldn't have had time for anything else," he smiled and touched her arm as if she were already his.

"Maker's mercy, Hawke, only you could say something as brazen as that without getting a slap in the face. How _do _you manage that?"

"By being devastatingly handsome, of course." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she burst out laughing again.

Someone approached them from behind Mahariel.

"Well, well, speak of the darkspawn. Here he comes now," Hawke said and 'omphed' loudly when Mahariel elbowed him in the side. Cullen came to a stop before them and he looked as stuck up and pissed off as ever.

"Don't you get a headache from scrounging your face up like that all the time, Commander?"

"Hawke, behave," Mahariel scolded him. He snickered when Cullen's jaw tightened with irritation.

"I'm Commander no longer, as I'm sure you're well aware. What are you doing here, Hawke?"

"Would you believe me if I say I've come to congratulate you on securing this lovely woman as your wife?"

"No."

"Well, you're right about that. Although, really, congratulations. Mahariel is a true prize," Hawke said and stroked her back. She rolled her eyes at him, but he didn't miss the way Cullen's eye twitched when he touched his wife. Mahariel wasn't exactly shrugging away from his touch, either.

_Interesting._

"I'm here simply because I have a delivery for Mahariel." He turned to face her. "If you would be so kind as to follow me, my dear. Oh, you can come along too, if you want," he said to Cullen over his shoulder, having already started walking. He felt rather pleased with himself as he heard Cullen mutter something under his breath.

They went out into the courtyard, where a covered wagon stood, guarded by six mages. The bustling sounds of Amaranthine's afternoon market could be heard in the distance, but it was otherwise eerily quiet.

Hawke stopped with one hand on the canvas covering the wagon and turned to Mahariel.

"I thought you might have better luck getting answers out of him than me," he said, and pulled a piece of the canvas aside. He unlocked the metal gate and dragged the man sitting inside to him and proceeded to yank off the bag the man had around his head.

Mahariel's expression didn't change, she just cocked her head to the side, observing. Cullen hissed between his teeth and a dark cloud fell over his face.

"Anders. It doesn't look like you've been getting along," Mahariel mused.

Hawke glanced at Anders, who he was holding by the neck. Did she mean all the blood and the bruising? "He was being difficult. Well, he wouldn't shut up, at least. He was being whiny. You know how it is."

Mahariel shook her head. "I don't, actually. I don't think he was the same person when he was in my company all those years ago. He was light-hearted, funny, sarcastic. If what you've told me about his time with you in Kirkwall is true, something changed in him rather soon after he left me. I don't know what you expect me to do."

"That's just the thing, dear. You're from before the 'crazy'-time. It's worth a shot, at least."

Mahariel stared at the unconscious, blonde man in Hawke's grip for a few seconds, before nodding. Several guards appeared as soon as she moved her head and she motioned for them to take him. The mages Hawke had with him followed their prisoner.

Mahariel looked at Hawke as soon as her guards had taken Anders inside. "I'm afraid I don't have much time to question him. I'll try my best tonight, but I have to leave soon, and I have much to go over with Cullen before I do. But come see me later. I'll tell you anything I've found out. Louisa!" she called, waving a servant girl over. "See to it that the Champion gets our best guest quarters, immediately." The girl didn't quite seem to hear her. "Oh, please, pull yourself together girl and stop fawning over him. I know he's a a famous hero, and a handsome one at that, but do as you're told now."

The girl turned beet red in the face and almost fell over herself when she hurried toward the castle, motioning for Hawke to follow.

"You hear that, Cullen?" Hawke smiled as he walked past the man. "Your new wife thinks I'm a dashing legend. Wonder what she thinks of you?" He laughed and followed the girl, not waiting to see what was ceratainly murder in Cullen's eyes.


	40. Chapter 40

_**Hawke**_

"Greyer, we might have a problem."

Hawke stopped hitting the training dummy with the bladed end of his staff when he heard Mahariel's voice from behind him. He wiped the sweat off his brow and turned around. She was a vision in her leather armor and flowing, blond hair, but his eyes were drawn to her hands. They were covered in blood.

"Oh dear, I asked you to question Anders, not kill him," he said, his tone light, but his smile died on his lips when he saw Mahariel's serious expression remain.

"I didn't kill him. Someone else did."

Hawke blinked, confused. "Anders is dead? But he was so well guarded, how could anyone get to him?"

"Guards are no problem for the Arl of Amaranthine, or in other words my husband."

Hawke looked at Mahariel with wide eyes. "_Cullen _killed him?"

"Seems like it, yes."

* * *

_**2 days later **_

Mahariel had left in the quiet of the night. Hawke was sad to see her go but he understood. She wanted to help Alistair, who was apparently already starting to hear his Calling. He was a little surprised that Mahariel had confided this in him, but they were friends and he supposed she wanted to explain why she left her new husband all alone in charge of her arling. He swore to her that he would tell no one. Even though he had little hope of her actually succeding, he hoped for her sake that she would. That would mean she would be free of the taint as well. Hawke didn't want her to die any more than he did his other friends.

After she left, he went straight to Mahariel and Cullen's living quarters. He'd put off confronting Cullen about Anders since he knew Mahariel was incredibly short on time and had to spend every second she had left preparing her husband on how to run the arling in her absence. But now she was gone and he wanted answers.

"What the fuck where you thinking?" Hawke asked and shook his head. Cullen was standing in front of him, looking not the least bit sorry.

"I didn't plan for it to happen, but when I saw him, I just – I just couldn't allow him to breathe a second longer, not the same air that Ashe is breathing."

Hawke sighed. "You know Ashe is going to be livid about this, don't you? He wasn't yours to kill. You're not the one he held captive and raped." Cullen flinched at the mention of the abuse, but Hawke couldn't care less about how Cullen felt. It was Ashe's place to feel enraged, her Maker damned _right _to be the one who finally killed Anders, if that was what she ended up deciding that she wanted to do. But now Cullen had robbed her of that too.

"I don't even get it," Hawke continued. "Why do you keep doing this? Acting like you're her personal protector, when so many of your actions speak of the opposite? How could you up and leave her, leave your position as Commander, without so much as a goodbye to her?"

Cullen threw his hands out in front of him. "What did you expect me to do? Stay there and watch as the Inquisiton crumbled into nothing? As Ashe went off to Denerim? I would have had nothing left. No position, nothing to fight for, not even... I couldn't bear the thought of being left behind as she went off and married that bastard."

Hawke narrowed his eyes at the other man. "What are you on about, man? The Inquisiton 'crumbling into nothing'?"

Cullen scoffed. "Don't pretend like she hasn't ever mentioned it to you."

"This is the first I've heard about it," Hawke said, and saw the anger in Cullen's face slowly be replaced by doubt. "And what's this you're babbling about her marrying someone?"

Cullen looked stunned and it took him a few moments to find the ability to speak. "You mean, what, th-that you haven't heard?"

"Maker, what's the matter with you man? Heard what?" Hawke wondered if the man was on the verge of having some sort of seizure. He'd never ever heard Cullen stutter before.

"That Ashe is marrying Alistair? He... sent her a letter of proposal. You _must _know, you were there... You came here straight from Skyhold, did you not? So you must have been there when Ashe was there, right up until the point where she traveled to Denerim?"

"Yes, I did come here from Skyhold, and I was with Ashe the whole time after you left. And I don't know what you're talking about. There was no letter of proposal from Alistair. Are you mad? Like he would ever ask her over a letter, and like she would ever accept something so cheap." Hawke shook his head again, certain that someone had tricked Cullen into believing all of this nonsense, but it was no one's fault but Cullen's own that he'd actually fallen for it. "Honestly man, how could you ever think such a thing was true?"

But Cullen didn't respond. He was gripping the desk behind him for support, his face as white as a ghost's.

When he finally did speak, it was barely more than a whisper. "What have I done?"


	41. Chapter 41

_**Cullen**_

"Yes, what _have _you done, Cullen? We got your letter, saying you were to marry Mahariel. Why do you think Ashe threw herself to Denerim after you if she was engaged to the King?"

Cullen didn't answer him.

_She... no. _

She had said that she was there for Alistair, that the only reason she came to see him was to tend to his resignation as Commander of her forces.

But even as he formed the thoughts in his head, the memory of her eyes filling with tears flashed before him. He had made her cry because he had been _cruel _to her. He had been so angry at the time, how dared she waltz in there with an attitude after breaking his heart like it was nothing? But if she wasn't engaged to Alistair... then the only one who had been breaking any hearts was himself.

Cullen almost staggered backwards when he realized what this must have looked like to Ashe. He had left Skyhold without so much as a goodbye to her, and then news of his engagement to Mahariel had reached her, and according to Hawke she had left to come see him immediately. And what had he done when she had arrived?

"Maker's breath, I didn't mean to," he mumbled, more to himself than to Hawke. "But why would Mahariel tell me - I mean, she _told _me that Ashe and Alistair were to be married!"

Hawke shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she's madly in love with you and – no, sorry, that's too ridiculous to even consider."

Cullen felt like punching Hawke's teeth in when he saw him smirk at him.

_Restraint, restraint._

"Very funny. And you're right, that is ridiculous. I'm the one who asked her to marry me." He paused as a thought occurred to him. "Do you really think any of this was even her idea? She's going away because Alistair is hearing his Calling. Supposedly. Do you even think that's true?"

"Oh, come on, Cullen. Alistair may be a bastard in many ways but he wouldn't deceive Mahariel like that. You know what they have been through together, and Mahariel is a Warden too. He wouldn't lie about something as serious as that, just to get the girl."

"Hmm, I wouldn't put it past him," Cullen said. Hawke rolled his eyes at him, but Cullen was far from convinced. Mahariel had obviously lied to him, but she was an old friend to him too, she must have had a damned good reason. What in the Maker's name had Alistair said to her in all those meetings she went off to?

There was a knock on the door and a steward Cullen couldn't remember the name of entered.

"My Lord?"

Cullen almost turned his head around the room to see who the man was addressing before he realized that it was himself. He didn't know if he would ever get used to the whole noble-thing. "We need you for the morning meeting. There are a million things to go through on today's agenda."

"I'll be right there, thank you," Cullen nodded and the man disappeared again. Cullen turned to Hawke.

"I can't leave now, not yet. Whatever reason Mahariel had to lie to me, I'm still her husband and I have a duty to this place now. So, you know."

Hawke stared at him, clueless. "Know what?"

"You have to do me a favor. You have to go to Denerim, go to Ashe. And you have to find out what in Thedas is going on."

Hawke stared at him still, his eyes wide. "I have to _what_? I'm not your damned errand boy, Knight-Captain!"

Cullen ignored the jab with the old title Hawke always called him by when he wanted to annoy him.

_Be nice to the fool, you need him._

"You should tell her about Anders anyway," Cullen said. "He's the reason you're here anyway, is it not?"

"_I _should tell her? _I'm _not the one who killed him!"

"Oh, come on, Hawke, you know you're dying to tell on me. Just try not to fuck her while you're there, you dog."

Cullen saw the fist coming but he let the mage hit him. It was a small price to pay.

One day later, he saw Hawke off as the man rode out of Amaranthine's gates with a sour expression on his face.

* * *

_**Hawke**_

The road was empty and Hawke's horse trotted on. Had anyone passed him by at that moment, they would never have noticed what was going on beneath the calm exterior.

He was sick of this. Sick of this them all. Who did they think they were? Cullen, all of a sudden an actual noble but busy as ever with vicitmizing himself. No one had forced him to marry Mahariel, and Hawke was no fool. The Commander had seen an opportunity to elevate his status and he had seized it. True, he might not have done it if he had known this thing with Ashe's engagement was a bluff, but how long had it taken him to move on after the news of her and the King? Not even a _day. _And now he thought that he could send Hawke off to do his bidding.

He almost spit on the ground in contempt. And to _think_, that he had come close to actually leaving Skyhold, leaving Ashe with Cullen. Not to mention the bastard King, who had – if Cullen was right - manipulated Mahariel and was surely in the process of doing the same to Ashe at that very moment.

Hawke had always seen himself as a practical man. He didn't take many things seriously, and had never considered himself the best option for Ashe. But he could see very clearly now, that the only one who had ever had _her _best interests at heart was himself. He truly only wanted her to be happy and prosper, never once letting his own, selfish feelings up to the surface.

_Cullen._

_Alistair._

Just the thought of those two weasels made his blood churn. They thought that they could do whatever they wanted with Ashe, like she was some kind of toy and not the best thing that had ever happened to them. They should do nothing but to throw themselves at her feet if they cared as much for her as they claimed. Fucking bastards, both of them, lying, manipulative, _unworthy _sons-of-whores.

Hawke spurred his horse on into a gallop and thundered down the road towards the capital. If he needed to start a war over her, then so be it. He'd bring them war.


	42. Chapter 42

_**Ashe**_

She knew what he was planning to do. She just knew.

The last few days with Alistair had been incredible. He was sweet, fun, commanding, fierce, and Maker – her face heated up just thinking about what an animal he was in bed. But most importantly - and of this she was absolutely sure - he _adored_ her. She admired him a great deal, too. Actually, she did more than admire him. She caught herself smiling whenever she thought of him, and he definitely made her heart beat faster.

She had made the King of Ferelden fall in love with her, and he was perfect.

Or at least he would have been, had she not been the Inquisitor.

Ashe sighed as she stood by the window of her chambers in the palace, gazing out over the city through the dim light of dawn.

Strong protests of her continued presence in Denerim had already been voiced. Accusations of her favoring Ferelden, or worse – her favoring Ferelden only because of her relationship with Alistair. They weren't officially a couple, but people were not blind, or stupid, and they had not exactly hidden their trysts so far. They were scared of her, and scared of her power.

And she knew without a doubt that it was only a matter of weeks, maybe even days, before Alistair asked her to marry him. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in the way he spoke to her, notice it in the way he treated her, almost with reverence. Men like Alistair did no such thing for a woman they did not intend to marry, or in his case, make his queen.

_Queen. _

She had tasted the word on her tongue several times in the past few days, and she had to admit: She _liked _it.

But she knew that there was no way she could be Inquisitor and queen both. And without her, there would be no Inquisiton at all.

But what was left for her in Skyhold? The Breach was sealed, and although peace was fragile, there _was_ still peace.

Cullen had left, and who knew where Hawke had gone after she stormed away from Skyhold after she had found out about Cullen and Mahariel? Her gut clenched with guilt at the thought of him. Once again she had thrown him away like he was nothing, when he'd been there for her all that time. All to go chasing after a man who'd married another woman. And when Alistair had started to really court her, she had made every excuse possible not to go back to Skyhold. She hadn't even dared send an inquiry to Leliana of what had become of Hawke. She did not want to go back because seeing him gone would make her guilt too overwhelming to cope with.

And every day, new demands of the Inquisition's dissolution poured in. She just did not know what to do.

She heard a faint rustle behind her and warmth washed over her as a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her from behind. She leaned into him and breathed in his familiar scent, pushing the other thoughts out of her head.

"Sweetest... you look troubled, I don't like it," Alistair said softly and kissed her neck. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"It's nothing, Alistair. I just have a lot on my mind." She turned around and faced him, still wrapped up in his arms.

"Let me distract you, then," he murmured against her lips before he kissed her.

* * *

She was nervous. Nervous and still at a loss for what to do. She had seen the servants bustling around outside Alistair's chambers all morning, busier than usual, before she had attended her daily business and she could swear that wherever she went, people were looking at her, pointing, whispering, even giggling.

That evening, she walked towards the King's quarters, more nervous than ever before. Was he going to do it tonight? Was this the day he was going to ask her to become his wife? The hallways were weirdly empty of servants and guards alike, so _something _was definitely up. At least Alistair's usual two guards were standing outside his door and nodded to her in greeting as she approached.

"Your Worship," one of them said.

"Is he in?" she asked.

"Yes, Your Worship. He is not alone, though."

Curious, she opened the door and slipped in, closing it behind her. She looked around but the living room was empty.

_Didn't they say..._

She heard a noise coming from inside his bedroom. She flinched as she heard something like glass breaking and she hurried forward and burst into the room.

She briefly registered that the space was filled with hundreds and hundreds of flowers, and candles were lit everywhere. But her attention soon became fixed on the scene before her and she stared in shock at what could only be described as a bloody fist fight. She didn't move until she was jolted out of her shock when what looked like a tooth went flying to the floor after Alistair landed a hit in the other man's face.

"What in Thedas do you two think you are doing?" she asked, putting her most stern, authoritative tone behind her words.

They both froze and shoved each other away. Hawke spat out some blood on the floor before he looked at her. He didn't seem the least bit ashamed, or surprised to see her. Alistair, on the other hand, looked horrified.

She quickly looked over them both to make sure they were not seriously injured. Hawke was bleeding out of his mouth and nose, but seemed alright. Alistair had a nasty cut above his eyebrow and a split lip, but that seemed to be it.

"So? Who is going to answer me?" she demanded.

Hawke spat out some more blood as if to ready himself to speak but Alistair cut him off.

"Don't you say a word to her, you bastard, I'm warning you," he said, almost growling at Hawke.

Ashe stared at him, surprised.

"I am not the bastard here, in any sense of the word," Hawke responded.

"Why do you not want Greyer to speak, Alistair?" Ashe asked slowly, feeling the creeping sensation of a betrayal coming. She had been through enough meetings and conversations with desperate people to know these sorts of things. She just did not know what kind it was yet.

"Ashe, I... This is not how I thought this evening would go," Alistair said and threw his arms out and glanced around the room.

"Yes, I understand that the flowers and candles are not the welcome committee for Greyer. I still have not been told what is going on, and I want an answer, now."

"He is here to ruin everything," Alistair said and pointed at Hawke, "here to spew lies and seperate us, don't believe a word he says, I beg of you, Ashe."

Hawke snorted and wiped the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand. "Desperate words from a desperate man. I didn't even come here to see you, you prick, I came here to see Ashe." Hawke turned to face her. "I was told you would most likely be here tonight, by one of your servants here, Ashe. She insisted that I would be allowed into the private chambers, she said you would always welcome me, and she persuaded the guards of the same thing. So she lead me to Alistair's front door. Imagine my surprise when I see two barely clothed, young women, neither one of them _you_, slip out of here, all smiles and giggles. Of course, it might just have been a misunderstanding, so I went in here quietly to see for myself. The son of a whore had barely pulled his trousers up when I saw him, and I merely questioned his intentions for you when he took a swing at me."

Ashe looked at Alistair again. He did not have a shirt on. Why would he not be fully clothed, this time of night? And Greyer would not lie to her about something like this, she knew he would not.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. You are so stupid, Ashe._

"Is it true, Ali?" Her voice was weaker than she would have liked.

"No, Maker's breath, it is _not_! It is all just a big misunderstanding!"

"Oh, is it?" Hawke cut in. "Was it also a misunderstanding how Cullen was informed of your and Ashe's engagement when he refused to be Amaranthine's steward?"

Ashe felt her insides go cold.

"Are you engaged to her, Your Majesty?" Hawke asked Alistair and pointed toward Ashe.

"I-I was going to ask her tonight..."

"So that is a no, then. Can you tell me why the former Commander was under that distinct impression when he married Lady Mahariel?"

The room feel silent. Ashe's mind was working fervently to piece everything together.

"Ashe, I..."

"Shut up, Alistair. Greyer, would you give us a minute, please? Go back to my guest quarters. I will join you shortly."

Hawke nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. He squeezed her shoulder briefly as he passed her before he disappeared out the door.

So Alistair had told Cullen that she was already spoken for. All to get her to himself. And Cullen, the fool, had taken the bait and swallowed it whole, without even asking her himself.

"Tell me this, Alistair. Who's idea was it, Cullen's marriage to Mahariel?"

"His own, I swear! You can ask him yourself, he can not deny that. Ashe, everything I did, I did for us, for you. I am truly sorry that I lied to you, but I love you, I _love you_, you hear me? I could not stand this any longer, stand you being near him, even thinking about him as an option. It hurt too much, I love you too much. Everything I did, I did because I do not want to live without you."

He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke, the shame from earlier gone as he stood tall and told her how he felt.

And she believed him. His words had a ring of truth to them, and all this - his crazy plan to get her to himself. She was almost impressed. She resented being lied to, but she believed him when he said it was because he could not stand having her with Cullen, because he loved her. She knew she had been cruel, to all of them. Alistair, Hawke, Cullen. It was never her intention, though. She cared for each and every one of them. But Alistair... He had only done what needed to be done.

But then she remembered what Greyer had said. She looked at Alistair again. Looked at his naked upper body, how the strings on his trousers were still untied. She remembered what she had always heard about him, from everyone, even straight out of Mahariel's own mouth – how he fucked half his court.

Ashe believed that he loved her. But he had loved Mahariel once too, and he had done the same to her. All the lies, the manipulation... It was impressive, the lengths he had gone to to make her his.

"It almost worked, Alistair. It almost did," she said, and suddenly she felt so very tired. She walked toward the outer door of his quarters, and Alistair did not even protest. She almost wished that he would have as she slipped out the royal quarters for what she was certain was the last time.

Not ten minutes later, she sat in front of the fire in her guest quarters. Hawke sat in a chair to her side, staring into the flames. She studied his face as he did so. He was quiet, and he looked like he had a lot on his mind.

_That makes two of us._

After another few minutes, he spoke, still staring into the fire.

"I did not come here to cause any trouble, Ashe, believe me. I am here because I was in Amaranthine. I delivered Anders to Mahariel for further interrogation. Sadly, she didn't get anywhere because Cullen... Well, there is no other way to put this. Cullen killed him."

"What? Why?"

Hawke shook his head, looking annoyed. "Because the selfish idiot has no self control, and seemed to forget that Anders was not his to kill."

Ashe felt a flash of anger flare up inside her. "You are damned right he was not," she said through gritted teeth. "Oh, Greyer, what is going on here? Why is everyone acting crazy?" The anger died died down just as quickly as it had come. She looked at Hawke, who was looking back at her, eyes full of affection and pity.

"You know why, Ashe. It is because of you. No, no, I'm not saying it is your _fault_. But I warned you this might happen if you pitted them against each other."

Ashe sighed. "I didn't do it knowingly, Greyer. This was never my intention. Do you know... Do you know why Cullen married Mahariel? If she only asked her to be his steward, then why would they need to get _married, _for Maker's sake?" She hated that she had to ask him but Hawke just shrugged.

"I can not claim to know how that man is thinking, Ashe, but he did tell me that he was the one who asked her. He was not forced to do anything."

"He didn't even stop to ask me why I had said yes to Alistair without even telling him first. How could he have been so stupid? He said he loved me, Andraste, and he was married to another within the week. And now Alistair. Seems I am not enough for anyone," she snorted, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

In two seconds, Hawke was on his knees before her, his hands covering hers. "Don't you ever say that, my dear. _They_ are not worthy. I don't care who they are, king, general, fucking stable boy, it doesn't matter. No one who treats you like this deserves your grief, or a second of your attention."

Ashe could not even meet his eyes. Eventually, even a tear pressed itself out of the corner of her eye.

Hawke wiped it away with a soft touch of his finger. "Princess, don't cry over them, they are _not_ worth it."

"I'm not crying over them, Greyer. I'm just so ashamed. Because how they have treated me... It is just how I have treated you."

She looked up, afraid of what she would see in his face, afraid of him realizing that she was right. But the only thing she was met with was his warm smile, and his hand gently stroking her cheek.

* * *

She had been on the road for weeks, only herself and a few guards. She had needed time to think, away from anyone speaking of Cullen, Alistair or even Hawke. She stopped in every village, meeting people without them knowing who she was. No burdens, no responsibilities. It was the most refreshing experience she had had in years. But she knew she could not play commoner forever.

* * *

She let her fingertips run carefully over the lables of the dusty old bottles. She hadn't been down here in ages. She sighed as she looked them over. She missed the time when she was collecting these, missed the 'simpler' times, if simple meant building the Inquisition and warring against Corypheus. Apparently, her life was now so complicated that her mind thought anything else paled in comparison.

She sighed again and snagged the closest bottle off the shelf. She glanced down at it. Golden Scythe 4:90 Black. It would have to do. She hopped up on one of the barrels that stood against the wall. She pulled the cork out of the bottle with some difficulty. It finally gave in with an outdrawn squeak, almost as if it complained about being disturbed after so long. She took a swig straight out of the bottle and almost spat it back out, but swallowed it and coughed. Maker, it tasted foul as nothing else. She snickered to herself when she thought of how much money this would have been worth if she had left it untouched. She drank another mouthful as she thought about just how fucked up everything in this world was.

Sitting in a dark, cold liquor storage room, she felt more at home than she had in a long time. At least Skyhold would always be hers.

She looked up as she heard the door creak open. She heard his deep voice before she saw him.

"Ashe?"


	43. Chapter 43

_**Alistair – Three weeks ago**_

Today was the day.

If Ashe said yes, it would be the happiest day of his life. But of course, he was a little worried that she might not. He knew that she knew that agreeing to be his wife meant she would become the Queen of Ferelden. And she could not be Inquisitor and Queen both – the nobles would never support it and Orlais would most likely threaten with war.

But if she renounced her title as Inquisitor and disbanded the orginazation, she would be welcome as his equal. She was of noble birth, considered a hero even by those who did not believe she was the Herald of Andraste, although most people did believe it. He doubted people would stop calling her 'Your Worship' even though 'Your Majesty' would be more correct.

Alistair smiled at the thought. It fit her, both titles. She was a majestic creature, _and _worthy of worship. He wished he did not have to force her to choose, but there was nothing he could do about it.

And he could not wait any longer. The wedding needed to happen sooner rather than later, before fucking _Cullen _became suspicious. As far as that lowlife knew, Ashe was already engaged to become the Queen.

Alistair's attention returned to the room when a servant almost knocked over a vase filled with what must have been dozens of white roses.

"Careful with that," he snapped and the servant bowed his apologies several times.

Alistair almost regretted sounding so harsh, but he wanted everything to be perfect for the evening. Shattered glass and a wet carpet was the last thing he needed.

When his chambers were ready – flowers and candles everywhere – he sent the last servant out the door.

The sudden quiet made him swallow hard, his nerves suddenly on fire. He poured himself a tall glass of deep red and gulped it down too fast; spilling half of the contents on his shirt.

He cursed and pulled the stained garment over his head, and his heart almost stuck in his throat when he heard the door to his bed chamber open.

_She can not be here already, I'm not even clothed!_

He turned around and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized it was not Ashe, but quickly raised his eyebrows in confusion when he saw the two young ladies who had entered stop in front of him.

"Lady Lydia, Lady Corinne, to what..." He cleared his throat, acutely aware of how the girls were staring at his shirtless torso and trying to hide their giggles behind their hands. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? This is not really a good time -"

"Your Majesty, we heard _terrible _rumors that this might be your last night as a bachelor," Lydia said and closed in on him, Corinne right behind her, and both of them siezed one of his arms each, clutching it to themselves like a prize.

"Say it is not so, Your Majesty!" Corinne pleaded, her voice exaggerated and full of false sweetness. Alistair shivered with displeasure and wondered to himself how he could ever have bedded either one of these opportunist girls. They were beautiful enough, and he supposed that was all he cared about, once. After becoming so numb after the terrible parting from Mahariel, before Ashe had brought him back to life again.

The thought of Ashe made him shake the girls off him immediately.

"It _is _so, my Ladies. So you see, you need to go now -"

"Oh, that is awful news, Your Majesty," Lydia interrupted him again. "But come on, have a little fun with us before you tie yourself down; _forever._" She started to loosen the strings on his trousers, while Corinne placed her hand on his inner thigh.

"We would not mind continuing this even after you have married, Your Majesty," Corinne whispered in his ear. "If your boring old wife stops putting out, you can fuck me or my sister any time you like. I would even be willing to carry your heir if it turns out that the Inquisitor is barren from all that ghastly, sparkling green magic she has been infected with, which seems most likely to me."

Lydia tugged his trousers down, which sprung Alistair out of the disbelief over what they were saying.

"Maker! Both of you, out!"

The girls giggled and took each other's arms and walked toward the door, but not before turning around to face him over their shoulders, winking and mouthing 'come find us' before blowing him kisses and disappearing out the door.

Alistair stood staring after them. The nerve of those girls, he wished he could have told them to get their sorry little asses out of his court, but their father was too important to risk pissing off.

He pulled up his trousers again and started to tie the strings when he heard the door open again.

"I thought I told you to..." He stopped what he was saying short when he looked up and saw Hawke standing there, looking ready to kill him.

Before he knew it, fists flew and blood splattered and dripped down into his eye.

Then Ashe arrived, and in a matter of minutes, everything was destroyed.

When she left, he did not even protest. What could he possibly say that would make her trust him? After his lies to Cullen had been revealed, and Ashe believing he had actually fucked those cursed girls, he did not blame her for walking out.

He tried to calm himself, tried to supress the absolute blinding rage, the _hatred_ he felt for Hawke in that moment. He wanted to choke the man to death, but he knew that touching a hair on the mage's head would only make Ashe despise him more.

He did not know if minutes or hours passed before what had just happened sunk in. He looked around, and all the fucking roses and the flames from the candles were mocking him. He did not stop until every vase was broken, every flame killed, and he finally sank to his knees, his hands bleeding from grabbing the thorns of the few, sad flowers he had left in his grip. He did not care about the pain – he welcomed it, even, and he pressed them harder into his palms until he realized that it was pointless. It could not distract him, not even a little, from the fact that in one single moment, all his dreams had been crushed, and his heart ripped out and fed to the dogs.

_What in Thedas am I supposed to do now?_


	44. Chapter 44

_**Cullen**_

He could not fathom what Ashe was doing down in the cold, dark cellars of Skyhold. She had always detested cramped and what she referred to as 'creepy' places such as this, and had never – for as long as he had known her – gone down here.

But all the same, this was the direction her guards had pointed him in the minute he had thundered into the Skyhold courtyard on horseback and demanded to see her.

After Hawke's visit – where the mage had told him that Ashe was in fact _not _engaged to Alistair – Cullen had moved as quickly as he possibly could, arranging for his absence from Amaranthine while ignoring the cries of outrage from his advisors. Leaving his new arling so shortly after Mahariel had also left was not a popular decision, but what choice did he have? He had to see Ashe, had to explain himself. It had taken him a few weeks to prepare, but here he was, finally back in his old home.

Walking through the halls of Skyhold made him feel a great many things, but he tried to not let it get to him. He could not let himself get distracted when he had to focus every last bit of his persuasive skills and use them on Ashe, to beg for her forgiveness.

He was getting more and more anxious, having searched most of the underground floors for her by now. There was only one more place to look, although he doubted she would actually be cooped up in the liqour storage.

But all the same, he gently called her name as he swung the heavy wooden door open.

"Ashe?"

His heart skipped a beat when he spotted her sitting on top of a barrel, her leather clad legs dangling playfully over the edge. The look on her face was one of complete surprise, and he could not even remember how he could have ever given up on her as his eyes roamed over the siren-like creature before him. Her crimson hair shifted in gold and blood as the torch-light danced across her silhouette, and her piercing blue eyes seemed like they were glowing. He wanted to fall to his knees and tell her how sorry he was for what he had done – to have blindly believed rumors instead of fighting for her until his end.

But he felt like he was frozen in place as soon as her eyes landed on him.

The silence stretched on and Ashe was just as still as him, until she raised the bottle in her hand to her lips and took a sip. She scrounged up her face after she had swallowed.

"Maker, that is foul," she muttered before falling silent again.

He stepped forward, opening his mouth to let his pleas spill over his lips, but Ashe held up her hand and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"How could you have been so stupid?" Her voice was low but her tone sharp. Cullen knew that it was not a retorical question – she demanded an answer.

He took a deep breath. "I don't know. I wasn't thinking straight, I have never been able to when it comes to you, you know that, Ashe. I would do anything to take it back."

"Take _what _back? The fact that you so easily believed that I wanted to run off and play queen, or that you married another woman within days_, _not even bothering asking me if it was true or not first?"

"They tricked me, Ashe. You were not there! You don't..." His voice almost cracked. "You don't know what it fucking felt like to hear straight from Mahariel's mouth that you and Alistair were to be wed. And I know it was stupid of me not to ask you directly, but what reason did I have to suspect that Mahariel wasn't telling me the truth?"

Ashe finally lowered her challenging stare and looked away from him, eyes suddenly glinting with tears. Cullen wanted to wrap her in his arms but he did not dare move.

"Even if I could understand that, I will never understand why you married her."

Cullen felt sick. "I don't know either. I am so, so sorry Ashe, I never meant for any of this to happen. I thought that I didn't have anything left – not you, not the Inquisition, not anything. I was desperate, and maybe I wanted to hurt you. Hearing that you were going to marry Alistair – you don't know what that did to me."

Ashe jumped down from the barrel and closed the distance between them before shoving him hard in the chest. "I don't know what it did to you?" she screamed while Cullen stumbled back, fighting to keep his footing. "I know exactly what it fucking feels like, you idiot! You left _me! _Without so much as a goodbye, and before I even have time to react, I get news of your resignation as Commander of my forces _and _that you are to marry the Hero of Ferelden! And do you know what I did then, Cullen? Do you fucking remember what I did?"

Cullen knew exactly what she had done, but he could not bring himself to answer her. He was too ashamed.

"I left Skyhold immediately, threw myself to Denerim to see you, to clear up whatever misunderstanding that had led to this madness. But it didn't matter how hard and fast I rode there, did it? Because when I got there, I was greeted with the news that you and Mahariel had already married. And when I went to see you, you..." She trailed off, voice breaking and tears spilling down her face. It only seemed to make her angrier. "You treated me like the dirt under your shoes."

He had no idea what to say – he could only curse himself and his stupidity.

Ashe shoved at him again but he stood firm this time, letting her take out all the anger she wanted on him. She hit him in the chest a few times, each blow weaker than the one before, until he stopped her and put his arms around her. She stiffened at first, but he could feel all her energy leave her after a few moments and he held onto her hard, leaning her against him.

"You are right about everything," he murmured against the top of her head. "I am a weak and foolish man. But I love you, so, so much. I would do anything to make this right, anything to make you look at me without contempt again."

Ashe looked up at him. "Anything?"

Cullen felt his blood rush as a spark of hope lit inside him. "_Anything, _my love, no question."

"Then leave her."

Cullen did not hesitate for even a second. "Leave Mahariel? Of course I will. Why wouldn't I, even had you not asked me to? She lied to me, lured me into this. I don't care if Alistair made her do it or not, she still betrayed me."

Ashe disentagled herself from him and took a step back. "Good. I can understand why Alistair did it, but as for Mahariel's motives, I can't even imagine. Maybe she just wanted to destoy me out of spite."

Cullen raised his eyebrows. "Are you actually defending Alistair? And why in the Fade would she push you into Alistair's arms if she were jealous of you?"

"I am not defending him, but do I understand him? Of course I do, and I would think that you of all people would to. You said yourself just a moment ago that you would do anything for me. So would he."

Cullen felt like smashing something. "You _are _defending him," he snarled. "After all that he has done to us? After all the lies he told you?"

"I said I am _not _defending him! But you should watch where you throw your blame around since you are as much responsible for this mess as he is!"

"What?" How could she even _say _that?

"If you would have had more faith in me, this would have never happened." Ashe pushed past him, slipping through the door and made for the stairs.

"Don't you walk away from me. Ashe! Stop right fucking now!" He followed her but she did not listen.

"How would you even go about leaving Mahariel, Cullen? Andraste does not recognize the dissolution of a marriage – what were you planning to do, kill her?" She kept talking but did not slow her pace as she stormed up the stairs from the underground floor.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ashe. I know I can't undo the fact that she is my wife – but I would make it clear to her that I want nothing to do with her. You could leave the Inquisiton, like you were planning to do for Alistair – but to be with me instead. We could live in Amaranthine together, you and I -"

Ashe stopped abruptly and swung around. "_What?_"

Cullen felt eyes on them as they had stopped in the middle of the throne room. Thankfully, there were not many people around but those who were had fallen quiet and watched the exchange with ill-concealed interest.

"Is it really such an alien idea to you? You would consider disbanding the Inquisition for him, but not for me?" he snapped.

"Are you being serious? He offered me his love, and his throne, and what do you suggest? That I leave my whole life and everything I have built to go live with you and your _wife? _Like some fucking mistress?"

"Mahariel wouldn't even be there, Ashe, but regardless, what am I supposed to do? She is my wife and no matter what, I can't make that go away."

"You could leave! You could leave and never fucking go back there, Cullen, wife or not! You don't owe her anything."

"I owe her the chance to explain, at least. I never let you do that, I won't make that mistake with her."

Ashe looked like he had struck her in the face, and Cullen screamed at himself internally for expressing himself like a complete idiot. "No, Ashe, I didn't mean it like that..."

"So everything you said down there, about how you will do anything for me, that was just more lies? You think I should forgive you for everything while we patiently wait for your wife to explain everything to you – to what end? What if she has a good explanation, about why she had to lie to you? What if you forgive her? Are you in love with her?"

"Of course I'm not fucking in love with her. Is it really too much to ask that I hear her out? For the Maker's sake Ashe, I stuck around and fought for _you_ while you were busy playing every man in this hold, spreading your legs for Hawke and Alistair and me alike!"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He heard gasps coming from people around them, but nothing killed him more than seeing the look on Ashe's face. He could see his own hope die as the light in her eyes went cold.

"I -"

"Don't even say anything, Cullen. Just leave."

"No, I -"

"I said leave."

She turned her back to him but he grabbed her hand and fell to his knees. "I didn't mean it, Ashe, please, I beg you, please forgive me, I didn't mean it like that."

She turned around to face him again. "You didn't mean what? That I'm a whore?" She yanked her hand out of his. "Guards!" she shouted, and in a matter of seconds, several armored men and women stood at her back. "This man is no longer a part of the Inqusition and as such, he has no right to be here. Throw him out and lock the gate behind him, on my command."

"Don't do this, Ashe, please! _Please!_"

She did not even look at him as they dragged him away.

* * *

_**Ashe **_

She went straight to her chambers after the humiliation she had just gone through was over, with strict orders not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Ashamed but overpowered by her weakness, she cried herself to sleep.


	45. Chapter 45

_**Ashe**_

She woke up, startled, by the sound of someone knocking on her door. She got out of bed and went down the stairs to open.

"Your Worship," a guard greeted her with a bowed head.

"Yes? Maker, what time is it?"

"I beg your pardon, my Lady, dawn is just settling on the horizon. But there is something you should know before the rest of the keep wakes up."

Ashe raised her eyebrows in question.

"Commander... I mean, the former Commander is still outside the gates. He hasn't moved since you ordered his removal yesterday."

"Cullen? He's still here?"

"Yes, my Lady. He's just sitting there, he tied his horse up next to him. He says he won't move until you come speak to him."

"Oh, for the love of the Maker! Why did no one tell me earlier?"

"We, uhm... we kind of figured he would give up after a while. And you said you weren't to be disturbed, Your Worship, but it is going to create quite the scene if our former Commander is just sitting there for all to see. The Captain said to fetch you right away. She doesn't know what to do, Ser Cullen won't talk to anyone but you."

"Fine. Give me a few minutes, and I will sort this out, I promise."

The guard nodded and left quietly.

What in Thedas was Cullen still doing here?

Ashe went back to her room and clothed herself in a fur coat to protect herself from the chill outside before walking quietly through the halls leading out, and down through the courtyard. Just like the guard said, she found Cullen sitting right outside the closed iron gate leading out to the bridge outside Skyhold.

He heard her approach and stood up, gripping the metal of the gate with his gloved hands.

"Ashe -"

"Why are you still here?" she interrupted him. She gave him the coldest stare she could muster but he did not seemd fazed whatsoever.

"You think I would give up so easily? I meant every word I said about doing anything for you. I'm sorry I said some foolish things in the middle of our argument, truly, but it doesn't change how I feel."

"You cannot be out here. People will talk."

"Does it look like I care? I won't move an inch from here until you let me back in, until you talk to me again."

Ashe huffed in frustration. "You are not in a position to make such demands. You think you can blackmail me into letting you back in?"

Cullen threw his hands out in front of him. "What do you expect? You're crazy if you think I am going to give up. I will never. _Never._"

Ashe closed her eyes and took a few, deep breaths. She could hear the determination in his voice. She turned her head toward the guard standing in the shadows beside the lever to the gate and nodded to him.

Cullen's eyes widened when the gate started to open.

"Leave your horse. Someone will take care of him," Ashe said and started to walk back to the stairs leading to the upper courtyard.

"So you will talk to me then?" Cullen said, following her.

"Yes, you idiot. In _private _this time."

He seemed to take the hint and was quiet until they arrived in her chambers. A servant must have stirred the fire since heat and flames were sparking up from the fireplace, and Ashe sat down in one of the chairs in front of it. Cullen did the same in the other one.

"Ashe, I'm sorry, I didn't ever mean to imply..."

"Imply? Wasn't it more of a statement? What was it you said again? That I have been 'spreading my legs for every man in this hold'?"

Cullen looked away from her and stared into the fire.

"It's a funny thing, how you men always react the same. You're so quick to call me a whore, but what did _you _do, Cullen? Do you even remember how all of this started? Before Alistair got here, the only emotion you ever showed for me was cold disinterest. But as soon as you got a little competition, it was suddenly fun to play."

"I didn't..."

"Don't you fucking lie to me!" she snarled. "Do you remember what you said to me after the first time you kissed me? You told me to go to him. You wanted to play this fucking game, not me. I chose _you _Cullen, it was always you! I told you I would come back to you after Alistair's birthday celebrations, that if you just had patience, I would come back and really be with you. You agreed, yet still you came there with Mahariel on your arm. More games from _you, _not from me. Not to mention your little excursion to Emprise du Lion – it wasn't just from Hawke I head the rumors about how the 'Lion of the Inquisition' had bedded every girl in the village. Did I ever even say a fucking word about that? No, I did not, since I held the opinion that you were free to do whatever you wished if you weren't with me. And then... everything with Anders happened..."

Her voice broke, and she chided herself for sounding so weak.

She could see Cullen move from the corner of her eye. "Don't. Don't pity me, and don't fucking touch me."

Cullen froze and sat back down.

"After that, when we got back here... I chose you again. You promised that you would keep me safe, and the next thing I knew, you were gone and married to another woman."

"Ashe, please, you _know _I was tricked into it. This was never my intention."

Ashe sighed, and stared into the fire, suddenly so tired she thought she might sleep for days after this. "It doesn't even matter. I have never needed you more than I did then, and you abandoned me when I needed you most, it – it broke something inside of me, Cullen."

Her last words were barely more than a whisper, and Cullen defied her wishes and got up and then kneeled in front of her.

"Please, forgive me Ashe, you know what a horrible misunderstanding it was. I will do whatever it takes, please – forget what I said about letting that bitch explain – no one matters but you." His hand cupped her chin and he looked her straight in the eyes, and she was surprised to find that they shone with unspilled tears. "I was an absolute idiot, making a game out of this, out of _you. _Nothing else in this fucking world matters but you, do you hear me?"

She was taken aback by the fire in his voice and the truth in his eyes. But she couldn't respond, not yet. It was all too much.

He sensed it. She hated that he did, that he knew her so well. It was breaking her resolve.

He stood up and let her go. "I'll leave you alone. I know it's been an overwhelming time for you, for us all. And Ashe..." He touched her cheek softly. "I'm sorry that I killed Anders. I know he wasn't mine to kill. But I couldn't allow him to exist in the same world as you."

He smiled sadly at her, and then he left the room.

* * *

_**Alistair**_

"Our father will never allow this to -"

Alistair slapped the girl hard across her face.

"You will do as I say," he snarled, "or so help me I will feed the pair of you to the darkspawn. I'll drag you to one of their lairs myself, dump you there for them to feast on and seal the entrance behind me."

Lady Corinne started to cry, but her sister dug her nails into her arm. "Shut it, you stupid bitch," she hissed, before she looked back at Alistair.

"I always knew you were the smart one, Lydia," he said. "So listen to me carefully: If you don't believe I'm serious about leaving you as a snack for the darkspawn – which I _am, _by the way – then believe me when I say that rumors about your destroyed virtue will start flying around very soon if you don't do what I tell you. Not from me, though, no, no, no. But every other man in the city will start talking about how the two of you whore yourself out to them, begging for it like bitches in heat. And what will your father do when he hears of it? When everyone starts talking about his own daughters like that, how you have destroyed your family's reputation?"

"Please, Your Majesty, we will do what you ask, I swear," Lydia said, standing in front of her still crying sister. She whipped her head around when a loud sob emerged from her. "Will you shut _up, _you cursed little shit!" she snarled, before redirecting her attention to Alistair again. "I promise I will get her under control for the trip, Your Majesty."

"You'd better. We leave at dawn."


End file.
